


Game of Thrones One Shots

by Kmaxwell1997



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: BAMF Brienne, Brienne is the Best, Brienne of Tarth Bitch, Drunkenness, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Good times, Kissing, Overuse of the word slightly, beauty is payne, get it bitch, get some y'all, haha get it, implied banging, jaime lannister loves you, lots of friendship - Freeform, more than kissing, so does pod, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-03-29 00:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 43,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13915707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmaxwell1997/pseuds/Kmaxwell1997
Summary: One Shots





	1. I Belong To You - Brienne/Reader

"You didn't have to do that, my lady." You apologetically look down at the dirt and use your boot to kick a stick into the burning fire. The gentle hum of the dark wilderness, filled with crickets and other creatures, surrounds you along with the crackling of the flames in front of you. You sneak a look across from you to see Brienne, her face illuminated by the bright hues of the fire, concentrating on the squirrel roasting in front of you. She grips the end of the pole and turns it, making sure every angle is even and crisp. She swallows a sigh and her deep blue eyes make contact with yours.  
"They would have killed you." She nonchalantly replies as she grabs a heavy log from behind her and adds it to the fire.  
"Yes, they most likely would have, but you don't have any allegiance or debt to me. You lost a great deal of money." Your eyes flicker behind you to see Podrick stepping on a stick, which made the loud snapping sound that distracted you. That snapping sound. That's how it all began.  
You immediately have a flashback to a few hours earlier.

It was just around dusk when you were wondering through the woods looking for herbs. Since you work on the land, your workday ends as soon as the sun sets, and you didn't think it would have turned into such an affair. All you wanted was a bit of lavender. You love the taste, and the smell is even more delightful. You were heading past the land and into foreign fields, but knew you were close to the unclaimed gardens filled with lavender. It's a few miles past the woods, but you'll make it before it gets too dark if you hurry. The wind is strong as the breeze throws your hair back and forth from your face, and plays with your brown dress. You spread your arms out and touch the sheaves and blades of wheat as you throw your head back and take in the beautiful weather. The cool air from the night chills your skin as you slip through the fields and head towards the forrest. You can feel the difference in your boots from the soft bounce of the grain beneath you as the rough roots of trees begin to overtake your footing. Branches swoop everywhere, and the trees are practically giants in comparison to you. The sky is a beautiful purple-pink color, and you can see the beginning of bright stars forming along the already forming full moon.  
You hop from tree to tree, practically skipping as the sky turns to a deep purple. It's already dark. You grab the trunk of a tree and set your head against it. Wow. What a beautiful day. These are the days your mother and father would tell you to cherish, breathe in deeply and take in every smell, ever sound you can. You smell the strong scent of pine mixed with a growing bit of smoke.  
Smoke? Why would anyone be camping here? It's practically empty land besides the farm a few miles back.   
Your curiosity gets the best of you as you decide to investigate further, and follow the scent of smoke as well as the faint sight of gray ash billowing in the north. You walk for about a mile and notice a camp set up with about 15 men. You would be more frightened, but it's dark enough to where they would only be able to see you if they were focusing on you, and they clearly are too busy. They have what looks like ale, and they are chugging it aggressively as they sing an odd sort of song about bears. Some are sitting on logs and laughing while others are starting fights and throwing punches at each other while those around them throw coins. A strong fire roars with two large deer on sticks roasting. You see a flag in the background but cannot make out the symbol in the darkness. You can barely see the men with the faint light the flames cast on the men, but you can see the glint in their swords and weapons from the fire.   
Although you would love to know what these people are doing and who they are, you decide it would be too dangerous, especially for a young maiden alone, only twenty.  
You turn to journey to find your lavender, but before you can take a second step, a branch beneath your foot breaks, sending a sharp, loud snap echoing through the camp. At this noise, a man on a log turn and looks towards your direction.  
"Look, someone's here!" He says as two other men follow him to where you are hiding behind the trunk of a tree. You see the length of the shadows approaching your tree and you begin to panic.  
You try to run but a man grabs your wrist and swings you around to face him. You release a high pitched scream as you look to see a very tall man in front of you, at least six and a half feet tall. His black beard is long and scruffy, and his hair comes down to his neck. His face is plastered with an aggravated expression as he practically drags you into the camp.  
"Ser, we have a visitor." He announces as he brings you to a man that is supposedly in charge. He wears many furs and has brown hair with a sinister look. He has a beard, mustache, and thick eyebrows. A wicked grin comes upon his face at the sight of you. He eyes you up and down, taking in your every inch.   
"Well, what a treat." He says as he walks towards you and places a dirty hand under your chin.  
You immediately jerk your chin away and sneer at him.  
"Not so fast, wench. You better be more grateful." He says as he places a hand around your neck and grips your throats tight, nearly cutting off your air.  
You scream for help which earns you a heavy slap across your cheek.   
"Shut it, bitch, or I'll kill you." He hisses, taking a dagger from his belt and putting it to your throat.  
You swallow a gulp forming in your throat as a tear falls from your cheek. He smiles at this. He knows he has you.  
"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to put you to use." He says as he takes off his furs and removes his belt. "You're a maiden, are you not?" He jeers with a wicked grin forming, and at this you kick him right where it hurts. The man holding your wrist behind you struggles as you begin to squirm in his grasp and you kick him in the shin. The men grapple for you, but you slip out of their grasps. You are practically free when one grabs your wrist and swings you to the dirt, the wind knocked out of you as you collide with the ground. You begin gasping for air when you hear the sound of metal scraping and see the glimmer of a sword in front of you.  
"You're gonna pay for that, bitch. But first, we'll have a bit of fun." He challenges as he begins to unlace his pants and you hear the shouting and jeering of the men around you. They're laughing, laughing as he climbs atop you and smiles. You begin to scream, but cannot finish before he slaps you again, this time splitting your lip and filling your mouth with a familiar metallic taste of blood.  
"Get off me! Get off!" You scream as he tries to rip your dress. The men have formed a circle around him and are cheering him on until you hear a faint sound of hooves. You hear a deep voice command, "Stop! Immediately! Stop!"  
A tall figure dismounts from a horse and another follows. The men part to form an opening for the two new visitors when the blonde haired one pulls the man off of you.  
"And what do you think you're doing?" A deep voice spat as the figure threw him to the side.  
"What are you doing? These are my solders, this is my camp, and this is mine!" He points to you at the last word as you sit up, still covered in dirt, sitting on the ground.  
"I belong to no one." You retort quickly as you stand up and dust the dirt from your arms.  
"Who are you?" The man grumbles.  
"I am Brienne of Tarth, and this is my squire, Podrick. And you are?"  
"Selye. Soldier of House Bolton. We were merely taking what is ours." He finishes with a smile.  
"Taking the locals as prizes now are we?" The voice demands as the figure protectively moves to stand in front of you.  
"You tell me. She walked into our camp, she has no business here. Well, at least not until she made herself our business." He said with a sneer.  
It is then that you notice the figure is a woman. She is tall and quite muscular, but her features have a softness to them. Her short blonde hair wavers in the cool breeze and her icy blue eyes look to you in a kind of reassurance.  
"No worries, I shall take her off your hands." She stated as she began to lead you away.  
"Well, no way! We were just about to have some fun! You cannot take her away! She's our property now!" He cursed.  
"I am no property!" You quip before the woman hushes you.  
"Well, I have a few gold coins I can give you for her." She replies and you hear a rattle of coins being taken from a pouch.  
"Hmmmmm...How many?" The man asks with a smirk.  
"5." The woman nonchalantly mutters.  
"5?!? Why I wouldn't pay more than 3 for a bitch like that!" He retorts with a laugh.  
"So you'll take it?"  
"Well, she did injure some of my men and gave me a swift kick in the groin, so I'm not sure I even want to sell her. I might just take her for myself and have my luck with her." He growled as he began to approach the Brienne and looked at me.  
"Well, if you would like to end this, I suggest you take the offer. Or, I could fight you?" She offers and unsheathed her sword.   
He takes in the scene before him and makes a decision.  
"Fine, I'll take the coins, the bitch isn't worth it if you ask me. She may be a fine maiden, but she's a nasty bitch." He barked as he spit in your face. You screamed in anger as Podrick held you back from retaliating while Brienne gave him his payment. The men laughed and shouted names at you as you were carried away.  
"Do not listen to them, they are little shits." She said as she walked you away. She noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks. She leads you to the horse and hoists you up. She sits behind you on the saddle as she grabs the reins.  
"What is your name?"  
"I am Katherine."  
"I am Brienne of Tarth. You will be with us now." She says as she leads the horse away from the camp. You hear the laughter and yelling slowly disappear as you ride further in the distance.

"You do not even know me. I am not of wealth or power. I cannot fight well. Why did you help me? I have no money to pay you." You stammered, your eyes filling with tears from confusion.  
"I do not wish for money or power. That is not why I helped you. I heard you screaming. I heard the men laughing and taunting you. I knew if I did not assist you then you would have been left to die..." she announced.  
"You did it out of kindness and honor? You knew they would have taken me, did you not?"   
She merely looked into the fire at your question, which was an answer in itself. You stand up from where you sit and walk to sit next to her. She has already taken off her armor, and she shifts so you have room to sit next to her. You sit down and lean into her as you rest your head against her shoulder.  
"My lady, I cannot thank you enough." You whisper as you wrap your arms around her thick waist.   
"I am no lady." She replies quickly as her breath hitches from the contact.  
You look back in surprise.   
"You're betrothed? Married? You've lost your maidenhood?" You question with a smile.  
"Nonsense. I am a maiden, I am no lady though." She says with a smile as she looks down at you.  
"So you are like me... looking for someone to take you away and protect you?" You quip as you give her waist another squeeze.  
"Never, I will do the protecting and will not let a man distract me." She says with a chuckle.  
"Well, I can see you will be good at protecting, but you do not wish for a man regardless?"  
"No, not quite."  
At this, she looks down at you with a face full of seriousness and focus.  
"Well, since you are not looking for a man..." you begin to say as you once again give her waist a gentle squeeze and look into her eyes with an expression of understanding.  
At this she takes you into her arms and gives you a kiss. The first kiss is chaste, thoughtful. It is your first kiss, and well worth it. It soon turns into a frenzy. They are hungry kisses, threatening to kill as you are both yearning for each other. Soon you are both gasping for breath as you look at each other with admiration and happiness.  
"What are you thinking?" You murmur as you catch your breath.  
"I think... that was the best 5 gold coins I have ever spent." She says with a laugh.  
"I belong to-"  
"I know, you belong to no one." She finishes with a chuckle.  
"Wrong."  
At this her eyes widen and eyebrows furrow in confusion.  
"I belong to you."   
She smiles and grabs your face as she takes you in for another kiss.   
"Well, my lady, we better get some rest before tomorrow. We have a long journey ahead of us."  
"I do not care, as long as I am with you."  
She wraps an arm around your waist as you snuggle up against her, your back completely covers by her entire body. You can feel her smiling in your hair, and you turn your head to give her one last kiss on the lips.  
"Goodnight, my knight."  
"Goodnight, my lady."


	2. Short Drabble - Jaime/Reader

You stumble over fallen trees and rotted trunks, sprinting as fast as possible to get away from the danger. You hold your left arm tight against you, trying to stop the sticky, rusty blood from pouring out of your frail body.

You'd been imprisoned, tortured, and released into the wilderness to be hunted all because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. You had been picking flowers in the woods, yes, it had been late, but you are always safe in this part. The dandelions begin to bloom, and you love to braid them and make crowns. You had been having a grand time, until you noticed a group of men approach you. They all wore Lannister soldier uniforms, were covered in blood, and had a hungry look in their eyes. You had said nothing at the time, because you were too frightened to move.   
At first they stood still, until they noticed no one else was coming to help you. They attacked, striking you in the head which immediately knocked you out.  
You woke up tied to a wooden chair with a scratchy length of rope. A trickle of blood ran down your forehead, nose, and all the way to your chest. They starved you for days until the length of rope fell loosely against your skin.  
They tried to hurt you, but they soon realized that they would be injured trying to even reach your ropes.  
As a final torture, they decided to play a game. They released you into the woods again; however, they were hunting you with bows and arrows. They wanted to kill you for your rebellion.  
You had gotten a decent distance away when you felt the first arrow graze your leg. It had been almost nothing, a small scratch that required almost no mending; however, the second wound was different. The arrow pierced clean through your skin, and you held your bleeding arm sternly to stop the loss of blood.

You now hide behind a tree, waiting to hear the thicket of leaves rattle to signal an approaching man, but you hear nothing. This worries you, they were right behind you. You grasp onto the familiar rough bark for some kind of touchstone in your despair, and decide to run again. You push roughly against the base of the tree and head towards a large group of trees. You can zig zag through with little interruption of arrows. You do so effectively, and hear nothing as you stop to catch your breath.  
The wind whistles through your long hair, and you bend over to restore air to your lungs. You're dehydrated, beaten, and malnourished. They won't be far behind you soon. And you don't want to be found.  
Suddenly you hear a cascade of footsteps coming a few yards away, and hear the shouting and jeering of your torturers.   
You decide to sprint as a last hope to survive. You smell the familiar scent of smoke and break through a series of bushes and thorns, severely cutting your entire body as you race from the men, and fall into your face in what looks like a start of a campground.  
You look up momentarily to see none other than Jaime Lannister, his golden, long hair glistening in the sunset as he wears an expression of shock. There are many men surrounding him, raising their weapons at you. You hear the crashing of leaves as the men are near approaching. You scramble quickly on the ground as you hold onto Jaime's leg, clutching it with a cry as you shut your eyes.  
You see your torturers eyes find you as they release a laugh, only to quickly shut their mouths as they see Jaime's expression of anger at your cries of fear.  
"What is going on here?" Jaime commands, looking down to you, still clutching his leg to your body.  
You point to the men. He takes in your bloodied appearance, the men holding the weapons, and frowns.  
"What do you think you are doing? Dishonoring a girl and the Lannister name like this? You are no soldiers of this house. Get out, before I execute you on the spot.  
At this, the men walk away into the darkness of the woods.  
Jaime looks to you and helps you up to your feet.  
"What's your name?"  
"Y/n".  
"Wonderful, (y/n), I'm sorry about all of this. They may wear the Lannister name but not the honor. I'm going back to King's Landing, is there any way I can take you there and give you a place to stay in reparation?"  
"Of course, your grace."  
"Please, call me Jaime." He smiles as he offers his hand in a gesture to his horse, which you climb onto. He joins behind you, and you both ride back to his home.


	3. Market - Jaime/Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime/Reader  
> He saves you from a fight in the market.

"Are you serious? It was half the price yesterday!" You shout.  
You're standing, hands on hips in the middle of the alleyway. The clusters of tents and tapestries swaying in the slight breeze, orange hues everywhere. Baskets of fruit pine the stairs, and the sunlight streaks through the breaks of buildings.  
You came to buy a few oranges, but knew you would leave with a fight. The prices have flown in kings landing, especially since the turmoil has never ended.   
"That's business, my lady." The toothless man spreads a wicked grin and holds out his hands, waiting to accept the coins. He's at least 40, dirty, and smells terrible. He has two other men working with him, no doubt low life scum as well.  
"Absolutely not. Goodbye." You state as you attempt to turn around, but feel something grab your tunic. You grab the veil that rests on your head, your long hair freely blowing in the wind. You feel the pressure from your clothes being grabbed and quickly turn back to the man in anger and shock.  
"What do you think you're doing?" You spit, looking at him in rage as you try to tear away your tunic, but he keeps a tight hand.  
"Well, maybe we can reach an agreement of sorts..." the man states.  
"Like what?" You state angrily.  
"I was thinking you could give me something different in return..." the man says as he quickly moves his hand to grab your ass, giving it a heavy squeeze.  
At this, you land a swift punch to his face, a cracking noise evident as he limply falls to the hard rocky ground. The move immediately draws the attention of the slightly younger and leaner two men that stood behind him.  
"Aye. What do ya think you're doing, bitch?" The one says as he runs out to fight. While your eyes are trained on him, the other sneaks behind you, grabbing your arms behind your back.  
By now, a crowd has formed in a circle around you. They're chanting and cheering watching as the man behind you is lifting you into the air, your legs kicking out in anger as you make contact with the first man, sending him flying into a nearby basket of apples.  
The other mans grip loosens and you quickly turn to hit him. He dodge as few hits before you land a good punch, momentarily stunning him. You suddenly feel a hard kick to your back, and a rough kick to your knee, sending you buckling to the ground. You look up to see the man with a knife in his hand, laughing as he raises it in the air. The other one is holding you back. You're stuck.  
You scream loudly, a high pitched animalistic sound.  
"STOP. NOW."   
The man turns angrily, but soon drops his knife, eyes wide in shock as you feel yourself being released.  
You scramble to your feet and dust off your clothes, fixing your veil. You are about to ask who saved your life, when you turn to see none other than Jaime Lannister.  
What is he doing here? Why is he out of his castle?   
The crowd is silent, scattering back to their normal duties as the two men run into the distance, escaping.  
He walks towards you with a serious expression and you lower your head while leaning down in a curtsey.   
He places a hand on your shoulder and you look into his green eyes.  
"Please, no need to do that." He laughs at your curtsy.  
"Well, my lord, you saved my life. I'm a stranger to you, and you-"   
"Please, call me Jaime."  
"My lord, I could never!"  
"I insist."  
"But we've just met!"  
"I see you walking in the market every day, you always wear the beautiful veil, well it matches the rest of you perfectly." He states with a smile.  
"You see me in the market? But you never leave your home?" You ask in confusion.  
"Indeed, you're right; I never leave. I watch you from my window every morning. You come to the market, even when you don't buy anything. Sometimes you just come and sit on the stones, watching the people pass by." He stares with a smile.  
"Why were you here today?"   
"Well, I was going to ask you to come to my keep, and I guess I picked the right day."   
"Thank the gods..." you say as you embrace him in a hug.  
"Well, you know my name, but I don't know yours..." he states in a sultry deep voice.  
"Y/n."  
"Well, y/n, we had a very different start than I imagined, but would you like to join me for dinner?"

 

The dinner you ate was wonderful. You'd never seen so much food in your life. Meat and mead covered the table, and there was an entire bowl of oranges.  
"I noticed you liked them at the market." He said with a smile.  
You talked for hours until it turned to darkness outside, and the moon signaled the time to head home.  
"Jaime, I'm afraid I must be going."   
"Where?"  
"Home, of course!" You plaster a fake smile on your face.  
"Y/n, I've watched you in the market, do you think I would never look to see where you lived? That shabby tent is not a home! It's barely a piece of cloth!"  
You look down in embarrassment as he releases a sigh.  
"I didn't mean to cause you dismay. I only wanted to invite you to stay."  
"Really?" You look to him in confusion.  
"Yes. I want your life to be as beautiful as you are."  
You embrace him in another enormous hug as your feelings get the best of you and you plant a kiss on his lips.  
He immediately grabs your face in his hands and deepens it, the kisses becoming intense before you feel a pressure on your inner thigh and look down to see a slight bulge in his pants.  
"Should we take care of that?" You ask, voice filled with a sultry manner.  
He takes your hand and guides you upstairs to his room.   
He immediately closes the door and guides you to the bed in record time before he sets you down gently on the silky sheets.  
You look into his emerald eyes and see nothing but wild, untamed desire.   
You immediately slide your tunic over your head, and are wearing nothing but your small clothes. Jaime seems mesmerized by the rise and fall of your breasts, and cannot resist raising a hand to touch them, causing you to release a moan. You quickly unbutton his thick breeches, and run your hand over the forming bump of his underclothes.   
When you slip your hand under and let your warm hand caress his growing member, you are rewarded with a gasp and deep groan, to which you look into his eyes and see nothing but his dilated pupils, a shimmering onyx.  
He leans you back while he sits over you in a plank position, and he quickly takes off your underclothes.  
You release a gasp as you feel his hand gently caress your center, sending you into a frenzy.   
"I see you're beyond ready, my love." He says with a smile, talking about your slick entrance.  
At this, he grasps hold of his erection and slides it into you, and you feel a tight stretch inside yourself. You feel uncomfortable until you feel a sudden muscle release, which only deepens his length inside you. At this Jaime gasps, and with wide eyes filled with shock whispers, "Why didn't you tell me you were a maiden?"   
"I know what I want. You. You don't have to treat me like an innocent child. I'm a woman. Fear not, Jaime. I wanted you to take it." You say with a soft smile.  
At this he kisses your forehead and whispers an "I love you" before he thrusts deeper. It feels like you're in a blissful state of eternal happiness, and you eventually collapse in each other's arms from hours of pleasure.  
"Well, I'm glad you decided to find me today and save me." You laugh, caressing his chest and holding your body to his.  
"No, my dear. You saved me."


	4. Tavern - Pod/Reader

"Another round, milady?"  
You look up to see a tavern wench, scantily clad and with heavy rouge on her cheeks as she enthusiastically holds a pint of mead. You give her a gold coin and in return she gently places the foaming drink on the wooden table.  
You look around the dusty inn. Dimly lit and smelling of sweat, many of the inhabitants are already drunk, eyeing you aggressively. You are the only female patron.  
Oh, is that a woman?  
Although dressed in men's clothes and hair short and dirty, you can see the hidden beauty beneath the hardness there. She doesn't eat pretty though, digging in aggressively to the pie in front of her, and chastising someone for drinking. It is then you notice him.  
Handsome dark hair and sparking eyes, he's the image of beauty to you.   
He stops drinking his ale and looks over to glance at you, and you immediately turn away in embarrassment, but out of the corner of your eyes notice him smile.  
You start drinking your ale, content with the silent occasional flirtation where you steal glances from each other. By now the woman has caught onto the game and looks at the man with raised eyebrows and a smile.   
Just as you begin to raise your hand to wave gently, you feel something grab your wrist. A calloused, dirty hand engulfs your tiny hand, and you look to see a drunkard. He has few teeth, near closing eyes from drunkenness, and he holds your wrist with an aggressive grip.  
"What is it?" You ask angrily, furrowing your eyebrows as you stare into his glazed eyes.  
"Ami innerupting you?" He slurs as he nods his head to the table with the man and woman. They are now looking at you in confusion and caution.   
You look back to the drunk, and state, "What's it to you?".  
At this he grabs your other hand and tries to lift you into the air to stand, but you rip your arms away, your lavender dress rippling with the sudden movement.  
"What? Is just one dance? I know I can dance better than that boy can!" He giggles as he again tries to lift you up, but this time grabbing towards your behind. You push against him angrily as you feel him begin to touch the beginning of your upper thighs, and look up to see him laughing; that is, until you see a flash of movement towards his head before he falls limply to the stone floor.  
You look up to see the handsome man from before, holding your pitcher of ale, broken and dripping with remnants of your drink. He has an expression of relief on his face as he offers you his hand.  
"Sorry, milady, I should have come over sooner." He states as you grab his hand gladly.  
"Well I think you came at the perfect time." You smile and follow him as he leads you back to the table where he sat previously. The woman has a smile on her face, and her mouth full of pie when you walk over. She's not beautiful like many maidens you've seen before, but there's a distinct aspect of beauty to her. Her eyes cerulean and sparkling as her lips turn upwards in a friendly manner, she's beautiful. Freckles decorate her face, and she finishes chewing her food.  
"I told him to go to you the third time you both gawked at each other, but I guess he decided a rescue would be better." She smiles as she welcomes you to the table.  
"Thank you both so much for your kindness. I'm y/n by the way." You state as you join the bench next to the mystery man.  
"I'm Podrick. You have a beautiful name, y/n. It fits you well, as you are just as breathtaking." He whispers with gentle eyes and a smile. You gaze at each other for a few moments before Podrick places his hand on yours.  
"Well, I'm Brienne, and I think this is my cue to leave." She laughs as she slides from her bench.  
"Oh my! Where are my manners! You don't have to leave!" You stumble over your words.  
"Fear not, you display not rudeness, y/n. I simply am ready for sleep, and I know Pod will be alright with you to keep him company." She winks as she heads towards the stairs and ascends them.  
You then look to Podrick and see him smiling, embarrassed, but smiling.  
"Well, since your drink came in handy earlier before you finished it, can I get you another?" He smiles.  
"Of course, Pod." You annunciation the nickname the woman gave him as he summons the bar wench for a drink.  
She sets down two pales and he gives her the money.  
Before you are able to take a sip of the frothy refreshment, you see that Podrick stops your hands once it reaches your mouth.  
"My beautiful y/n, surely you do not forget the traditions of my people?" He says in mock surprise.  
"I don't know your people! What is it?" You ask, curiosity obvious in your voice.  
"Well, there are games we must play before we sip casually. The first is a two pint chug!" He smiles as he pushes two pints in front of you, laughing as you open your eyes and mouth in shock. He takes two more pints for himself before he shouts, "You will respect my people, won't you?"   
In answer, you take a mug and down it quickly, the contents bitter but refreshing after all the commotion from earlier. Dribbles of the mead run down your chin as you set the pale down. You release a sigh and wipe the remnants from your mouth as you see his eyes wide with surprise.  
"What? You plan on losing?" You laugh as you take the other pale and begin chugging. Out of your peripheral vision you see him grab his pales and begin to chug.  
You set them both down at the same time, and already begin to feel a slight buzz.  
"What game now?" You ask.  
"Next, we play darts..."  
"How is that a drinking game?"  
"Patience, my dear. Every time you fail to make it in the center, you down a swig. First to make a bullseye wins!" He states.  
You walk over and begin playing. With the effect of the mead already impressive, your aim is terrible. You barely make the outer circles, and Pod is laughing at your efforts. Soon, you both are absolutely hammered.  
"I have a confession." He says sadly with a frown on his face.  
"What is it?" You turn serious.  
"There are no drinking traditions with my people. I just wanted to spend time with you." He mutters as he has a look of embarrassment.  
"I know." You smile.  
"You what?" Now he turns to pure shock.  
"I knew you were bluffing. But I wanted to spend time with you." You giggle as he brings you into a hug. He kisses your forehead chastely, and you look up to see him smiling.  
"Gods, y/n, you've made me the happiest man tonight. Could I have the honor of this dance?" He states as he offers his hand to you.  
You accept with a smile, and bring your bodies close together as you sway back and forth across the stone floor. You feel his hand gently rubbing the small of your back, and you wrap your arms around his strong back.  
You soon release a yawn, and he steps back with a smile. "Is my lady getting sleepy?" He mocks as you giggle.  
"Very sleepy." You mumble as you grab his hand and lead him to the stairs.  
He stops outside of your room.  
"It's been a wonderful night, y/n, thank you." He states as he kisses your lips.  
"Pod, will you stay with me? I mean, just stay with me, like just sleep with me? Well, not sleep with me! I mean-"   
"I know what you mean, and yes." He smiles as you lead him inside of your room and to the bed. You slide under the blankets and furs as he joins behind you. He wraps his arms protectively around your waist as he sighs in comfort.  
"Goodnight, my hero." You says with a smile, warning you a kiss on you cheek.  
"Goodnight, my beauty."


	5. Monsters - Sandor/Reader

"Get fucked."  
You whisper the words as you load your arrow into place, your calloused fingers caressing the string as you pull as far back as possible. You kneel with one knee forward, steady on the patch of high ground you have, a green hill that gives you the advantage. A strand of hair falls loose from your braid and lands right in front of your lips, moving in rhythm with your slow breathing. Your eyes are locked intensely on your target, a known rapist in the little town.  
You hear a swish noise as you watch your arrow sink into its desired home. The dirty old man with a knife that was once trying to hurt the small girl falls lifelessly to the dirt, shot through the heart, that is, if he even had one. You see the small girl cry and run away, shaken, but happy to be alive and unharmed. The knife he had held to her throat scatters across the ground. You watch as the pool of blood forms around his body and you breathe a sigh of relief and smirk.   
One less asshole.  
"Nice shot."  
You quickly load another arrow in place and turn around, shocked to see the man before you. The hound. You could tell by his firebranded face and pure callousness. He was however, wearing a smile at the small amount of justice you served with your weaponry.  
"Thanks." You smile politely as you tuck the strand behind your ear.  
"I've seen some terrible men in this area go down by arrows, and I assume it's your doing?" He asks with a beau trap expression.  
"It might be." You keep an even expression to match his.  
"What? You're some fucking vigilante bitch that calls the shots?"   
Uh oh. Were some of those men his friends?   
"If that's what you want to call me, then fine. But I'm (y/n), and I'm doing my part to let all the scum of the earth become part of the earth. Monsters of this world can get fucked for all I care. If you don't like it then get fucked too." You dislodge your arrow from its place and place it in the sheath hanging from your shoulder.  
At this he releases a laugh.  
"You're a feisty bitch aren't you?" He replies with a genuine smile.  
"Call me bitch one more time and you'll be eating my feather tipped arrow." You state nonchalantly as you grab your supplies and begin to walk off.  
"Whoaaah there now. I was just fucking with you. Calm down. Let me buy you a drink."   
"Why?" You ask, notes of suspicion present.   
"I like what you do, and I like your spirit. Not many people stand up to me. So what do you say?"  
"Fine."  
You sling your bag over your neck as you follow him.   
You walk for a few minutes before you come upon the inn. It's small, wooden, and homey. You notice various odd trinkets hanging around everywhere, and it's a very loud atmosphere, mostly very drunk men.   
He leads you to a table and you both sit down. He grabs the attention of the tavern wench and buys you both drinks, frothy tan looking ales.  
"So, were you just spying on me?" You ask.  
"I was walking over the hill when I heard the girl scream. I was about to run down and take care of the bastard when I saw you standing there with your weapon raised. I wanted to see if you'd succeed." He replies as he takes a long sip of his ale.  
"You've got to know better than to sneak up on a woman like that. I could have killed you when you scared me." You laugh as you take small sips.  
"I saw your concentration. You wouldn't just shoot me without a reason."  
"Not on purpose. What if my finger just... slipped." At this you hold up your hand and show him your dainty fingers, wiggling them as you raise your eyebrows.  
"Well, thanks the gods you didn't. You wouldn't get a free drink." He winks.  
"I'm not going to sleep with you."  
"What?" He says, an expression full of shock.  
"If that's why you're treating me then-"  
"No you dumb wench. I'm just-"  
"Again? Dumb wench? Come on! You know better than to say such things."  
"If you say dumb things, I'll call you dumb."  
"How is that a dumb question. It's a logical thought that you'd be trying to get me drunk and-"  
"Nonsense. I'm not a monster."  
"I didn't take you for one. But why am I here then?"  
He takes a slight pause and releases a heavy sigh as he looks down at his ale.  
"I saw you were a good shot, and have honor. I wanted to know if you'd be willing to fight."  
"Fight who?"  
"Not even human. They're these monsters. Scary fuckin things. They-"  
"I'm in."  
He replies with a shocked face as you down a large gulp of your ale.  
"Like I said earlier, monsters can get fucked." You say as you hold up your pint for a cheers.  
He smiles and grabs his pint as well and raises it to yours  
"To getting fucked!" He says loudly, which attracts the attention of a significant amount of patrons in the inn. You smack him playfully on the shoulder.  
"Didn't we JUST have this conversation." You laugh as you take a sip of your ale.  
"Anyone who gives a damn can get fucked as well." He says before smiling.  
Well. You sure can't disagree with that.


	6. Rescue - Pod, Brienne, Jaime, Bronn, Hound

"HELP ME!"  
You shout the loudest you can, effectively squeezing every last breath from your lungs as you look quickly around you for any sort of assistance. Nothing.  
You turn back to the terrifying man, not exactly old but not young. He has dark hair and sharp green eyes that pierce your soul. Holding a knife in the air, he waves his finger at you while smiling in an attempt to intimidate you. You back up slowly, trying to slowly diffuse the situation and escape. Before you can take more than a few steps back, you feel your back bump into something. You release a scream as another knife is pressed to your throat, but are silenced as a dirty, grime covered hand covers your mouth and the silver blade draws droplets of blood from your smooth skin.   
"Shhhhhhhh. Shhh shh shh. There there now darling. We won't hurt ya if ya just stop squealing, alright? Can ya promise me ya won't scream?" The deep voice behind you asks.  
You gently nod your head up and down in agreement, releasing a slight groan as the blade slightly cuts you. You feel the hand coming off your mouth as your knees are kicked out and you land on them awkwardly and put your hands down to steady yourself in the dirt.  
"See, pretty thing? That's a good girl. Don't open your pretty mouth and you'll be fine! Well, only open it when we tell ya!" The first man laughs aggressively as they both stand in front of you. The other man is blonde, larger, and about the same age.  
"I have no money." You state with an even voice, refusing to let it quiver from fear.  
"That's not what we want and you know it." The large man says with a snicker as he takes a knee to be even height with you.  
"You'll have to kill me first." You furrow your eyebrows with anger and courageously mutter the words as the men laugh.  
"I'll do ya cold if I have to, but it's more fun when it's a struggle." The smaller man laughs, and it is then you notice his toothless grin.  
You fall back onto your hands and stumble back on your hands and feet, scrambling, while they grin and begin to make excited sounds of whooping and hollering as they walk towards you.   
"We should take her in the woods, so no one on the road can hear her yell..." the blonde man says.  
"They won't hear her yell! She'll be moanin after we have her for a bit!" The dark haired one states with a laugh.  
"Either way, we should take her back just in case."  
"I guess, I'll grab her legs, you find a spot."  
You can hear horses in the distance and smile. Just as you are about to yell out, you are smacked in the face. The blonde man rips his shirt and ties the strip around your mouth in a gag.  
"Get back! Now!" He shouts the the shorter man as he grabs your legs.  
"Hehhhhhhhf mmmmmmmm!" You try to scream, tears falling from your eyes. This is your only chance. They'll probably kill you after they're done with you. This is your last hope.  
You drag your nails in the dirt, trying to grab a clump that is deeply rooted or somehow find a footing in the ground, but helplessly watch as little crumbles fall around your hands. You scrape with all your effort, crying out and releasing guttural animal-like cries as you try to hold on and kick your legs and captor.   
You can now see there are multiple people on horseback. At least five.  
You are near the edge of the woods when you grab a small rock and throw it towards the road with all your might. You see it skip on the hard surface and create small clouds of dust. Maybe they'll see it. They were so close.  
Your body is attacked by thorn bushes and small sharp rocks as you are dragged both on your back and stomach across the forest floor. They do not care about the roots, plants, or fallen branches that assault you as you are ruthlessly whipped across the terrain.  
Suddenly, you stop.  
There are twigs and leaves stocking from the mess of your hair. Your face is covered with blood and caked with dirt, patches of brown covering your body. Your dress is ripped and I'm a heap at your lap. The entirety of your body is broken, bruised, and bleeding.   
"Now for the fun part."  
The blonde man holds a knife out as he begins to unbuckle his breeches. The other laughs and sticks his hand inside his breeches, a dirty grin on his face. The tall man pushes your shoulders back roughly and wraps your arms behind your back so you cannot move. He is straddling you, and laughs as he untied your gag.  
"I wanna hear you scream." He whispers with a smirk.  
At this, you release your loudest scream as you see that he is beginning to trail his hands on your upper thighs. You close your eyes and try to be somewhere else. Anywhere. Just as he gets to your inner thigh, you feel something sticky hit your face. You quickly open your eyes in fear as you see a knife jutting from his throat. He is clutching at his bleeding wound, turning around, while still on you, to see the other man in complete shock. The other man begins to walk towards the two of you when an arrow flies through his head, sending him falling lifeless to the ground.  
The man on top of you releases his throat and falls limp on top of you.  
You scream as you attempt to lift his heavy body off of you, the feeling of blood pouring onto your body odd and disgusting.  
Suddenly, a figure flashes in your field of vision. It's a very tall, muscular man with orange hair, wild eyes, and a crazed expression on his face.   
"See, I told ya I saw someone." He yells as you see more figures crowd the small area.  
The largest man you've ever seen grabs the man on top of you and throws him off effortlessly. He has a burnt face, long, dirty hair, and a mean expression.  
Then there is a woman, tall, blonde. Plain faced, but not ugly, she's looking at you with a shocked expression as she kneels by you to put a hand beneath your back and sit you upwards. A boy follows her every move, about your age, looking quite out of his element and anxious.  
"Up slowly now, easy. You're alright now." The woman states calmly as she eases your upper body up, still sitting on the ground.  
"There someone really back here, or is Tormund trying to kill us?" You hear a proud voice booming as a nicely dressed, gorgeous man steps through the clearing. He is missing a hand, but strides elegantly.  
"If you're gonna kill us at least let me take a piss first..." you hear a sarcastic, deep voice booming before a brown haired man with shoulder length locks and a mustache steps in behind the other man.  
"Oh... sorry." The sarcastic man says as he assesses your current state.  
"Before you rudely interrupted, we were trying to figure out what happened." The woman stated.  
"What's your name?" The red haired man asks.  
"Katie." You answer in a small voice, slightly shaking still from shock.  
"Well, Katie, could you tell us exactly what just happened?" The man with the golden hand asks politely and soothingly.  
"Well, I was going along the road to see my friend, and these men came out of the woods with knives and threatened me. I tried to run but they caught me, and they dragged me off into the woods. They said they wanted to... that they were going to... well, r-"  
"I see, I see." The red haired man interrupts, noting your discomfort and saving you from saying it.  
"Who- who are you? And how did you find me?" You ask.  
"I am Brienne of Tarth and this is Podrick, my squire. He-" she pointed to the red haired man, "is Tormund. He-" she pointed to the tall, burnt man, "is known as the Hound. He-" she points to the man with the golden hand, "is Ser Jaime Lannister. And he-" she points to the brown haired man by Jaime, "is Bronn. We've been traveling along these roads for quite some time. Tormund there thought he heard someone telling, and saw a rock fly out from the woods. He jumped off his horse to follow the screams, and then we found the source. Bronn immediately threw his knife while Tormund shot with an arrow. Looks like we got here just in time." The woman answered.  
You take a deep breath and release a sigh, "you have no idea how grateful I am for you. That was incredible bravery. You saved me." You state with a smile. "How can I repay you?"  
"No need, Katie, nothing to thank us for. We'd do it again." Brienne says proudly.  
"At least let me pay for my heroes meals! There is a wonderful pub a mile down with amazing pies!"  
"Oh, we could never ask you-"  
"You weren't asking! I insist! Please!"   
They all look at each other and eventually nod and smile.  
"Yay! Follow me!" You shout as you get up and lead them out of the woods and to the road. You share a horse with Podrick, and lead your heroes to dinner.


	7. Peaches - Tyrion, Bronn

"Did you see that?"  
You look to your friend, Nate, as he stares ominously into the thick brush a few feet ahead of you. A worried expression on his face, he looks back to you in questioning.  
"I think you're beginning to see things, Nate." You nonchalantly state as you continue on your intended path along the small trail. He stays in his place, and you begin to get bored and shoot him a look of annoyance.  
"Come on, we need t-"  
"Did you hear that?!?" He yells, terror filling his voice.  
"Now you're beginning to hear things as well, shall I take you to the maester? Or do you want us to stand here as statues for the rest of the day instead?" You joke, turning to face him and taking steps towards him.  
"(Y/n), I really think I heard something. See there's even something moving in there!" He shouts as he points to the brush, slightly rustling. You look back for a second and it immediately stops, leaving a few shaking leaves. You whip around in annoyance to face your frightened friend.  
"It's probably an animal! We ARE in the woods after all! What else c-"   
Suddenly you hear something break out into the clearing along with a heavy crash of branches breaking. You turn to see a man dressed in heavy furs with a crazed expression on his face. He holds a large axe as he stumbles into the large open area, and immediately sets his eyes on the two of you.  
"(Y/n), we need to get out of here." Nate whispers as he tugs on your tunic and takes a few small steps back.  
"That's some necklace ya got there." The man grunts as he looks you up and down with an expression that makes you uneasy. You instinctively grab your necklace, the small pendant of crystal glittered in the sun. He begins to take steps towards you.  
"Looks like a pretty little thing..." he says as he approaches you.  
"Get back." You strongly state, voice even and filled with false confidence.  
"Or what." He practically purrs as he lifts his axe threateningly.   
At this you both take off running. You practically knock Nate over as you both sprint towards the main road. You hear heavy footsteps behind you, and look back to see him only a few years behind you, and gaining foot quickly. You continue running as fast as possible, and are clotheslined, sending you practically cartwheeling onto the dirt beneath you. You hit the ground hard, sending dust flying in every direction around you. You feel another thump next to you, and see Nate hit whatever you did.   
You finally look up, and see a horse. You must have rocketed into the horse and almost knocked yourself out. On the horse is a very short man; in fact, he appears to be only a few feet tall. You've never seen a small person before. He has shaggy golden hair, and wears all black. He has friendly, brown eyes.  
"Are you alright?" He asks, voice filled with concern.  
"Must've been runnin real fast, didn't even look to us. Somethin must've scared em back there." You hear a sarcastic voice join in, and hear the trotting of another horse joining your small group. You look to see a man of regular stature, black hair reaching his shoulders, a smirk on his face.   
You hold your head in pain, your long hair cascading from your back to the front, shining in the sunlight. You definitely have an injury. You look over to see Nate completely knocked out.  
"There... there was a man. He wanted to rob us... probably kill us... we were running..." you mutter in agony as you release a groan of pain as you apply pressure on an attempt to soothe your throbbing temples.   
You hear a thud of someone dismounting their horse, and feel a hand on your shoulder.  
"Quite a scare you had there. You should probably go to a maester. We'll take you. Come on." You feel yourself being lifted as the dark haired man lifts you up and helps you on your feet. He helps you mount his horse, and then he turns to Nate. He throws Nate on the back of the small man's horse, and then rejoins you on the horse.  
"Back to Kings Landing." He says before slightly slapping the horse's backside to move.  
"Oh, we're alright, don't worry. You don't have to mother us!" You try to explain, but he interrupts.  
"I insist. Plus, we have the best care at the kingdom. You'll really get the royal treatment." The dark haired main winks.  
Suddenly it hits you.  
"You're Tyrion Lannister!" You shout, full of surprise.  
"Yes, lucky guess." The small man smiles as he turns to look at you.  
"I've never seen you before. I live on the outskirts of the city! Oh my gods! I'm being rescued by Tyrion Lannister!" You giggle.  
"And Bronn. Don't forget Bronn helped save the day too!" The dark haired man sarcastically states.  
"Of course! I'm (y/n) by the way. That's Nate." You point to the still unconscious man gently bumping up and down in rhythm with the horse.  
"I see. Are you two wed?" Tyrion asks.  
You immediately are sent into a fit of laughter.  
"Oh no! He's my best friend!" You state.  
"Pity. You're a beautiful girl, and he's a fair boy. It'd be a fair match." Bronn states nonchalantly.  
"Oh no. I want to go adventure all over Westeros before I marry! I want to see the world!" You sigh as you think of all the beautiful places you've read about.  
"Haven't traveled much have you?" Tyrion sympathetically asks.  
"Not really. We don't have much money, not since dad died, but on my name day I get to travel to the city to explore. I save all year for it, and I look forward to it every day! I get to see the markets and streets and everything. It's the most beautiful thing!" You beam.  
You see Tyrion give you a sad grin, and know he kind of pities you. He has loads of riches, and probably will travel more in a week than you will in your life.   
"But I mean, why leave home when it's so lovely! I love being home with my mom and brothers and sisters. I'm the oldest. I have four brothers and five sisters. They love to laugh and play and explore with me! And they love my baking. I make a wonderful peach loaf with cinnamon, sugar, and spices. It's the most wonderful part of the week. The whole house is filled with the scent! It's like you're floating in the heavens!" You giggle as you are filled with memories.  
Tyrion slows down his horse to be next to you, and he leans close to you.  
"Tell you what, (y/n), if you bring me a peach loaf for every name day of mine, I'll let you go anywhere is Westeros you want for your name date. Sound like a deal?"  
Your eyes grow wide in shock and excitement. You gasp in utter happiness and release a squeal.  
"Yes! Absolutely! Yes!" You happily yell repeatedly and hold onto his hand tight.  
He laughs and squeezes your hand in return.


	8. Arrows - Brienne/Reader friendship

You keep your breathing even as you bring an arrow from your leather quiver, holding it tight in your hand.   
Focus.  
You nock the arrow and check the feathers. It's in place perfectly, and you bring the bowstring back to rest slightly by your chest. Breathe. Breathe. You can see your breath fog up in the crisp air. It's snowing, flurrying you might say. Snowflakes flutter in clumps creating thick, heavy blankets of the fluff everywhere. Winterfell is covered completely, and the cold air bites at the exposed flesh of your cheeks.   
Steady.  
You feel rather than see the release of the arrow, the wind cracking as it flies from your hand. You blink rapidly, trying to keep the snow out of your eyes. You look to the target.  
The sack of sand used as the target has another hole, just off center of where you want it. You look at the dilapidated woven mess, and see the small paint dot in the center untouched. The outer layer, about an inch circular around the center, is riddled with holes. Further rings are also filled with hit marks. Everywhere on the bag has been hit at least once, except the very center.  
You release a loud groan that sounds more like a cry, your anger and frustration getting the better of you as you kick the snow, sending clumps flying into the air. Your breathing is now ragged, small puffs of air becoming visible as little clouds form around your mouth. Your eyelashes are frozen. The part of your braid that is out of your furs has small trails of ice hidden in it. Your cheeks are a rough red color, and your lips are chapped and bleeding. You look and feel a mess, but you will not leave until you hit the exact center. It doesn't seem like a lot, but an centimeter difference can mean life or death, and you will not be anything but accurate.  
You are so focused on your tirade that you fail to notice the footsteps approaching behind you.  
"Go inside, get warm. You won't get any better if your eyes are frozen shut."  
You quickly turn to see Brienne, the tall woman, blonde hair slicked back and short. She is engulfed in furs, and looks like a man as she walks towards you, face full of uncertainty and seriousness.  
"I won't get any better sitting in there on my ass doing nothing while there's a war I'll need to train for." You remark nonchalantly as you collect your arrows, yanking them out aggressively and watching small rivulets of sand cascade down the front of the bag.  
You hear the crunching of footsteps and know that she is following you. You retake your position yards away and put the remainder of your arrows in your leather quiver. You bring your arm back to grab one and load it, and see from your peripheral vision that Brienne is watching you intently.   
You let the arrow fly, and hear a sound of arrow hitting a clean spot. The familiar crunch means something untouched was hit. You smile and drop your bow to run over back to the back, sprinting with glee, Brienne only a few feet behind you. You approach the bag and your face drops. You've only hit a small portion of the center, probably less than a centimeter of new space.  
At this, you scream. You've been out here for hours. You're practically frozen. All you want is a bullseye. You want the peace of mind that you'll be able to defend yourself effectively if no one else is with you. You can rely on no one but yourself. It's only you out there.  
The animalistic scream echoes around the quarters of Winterfell, sending distant nightmares of a scream miles away.  
"I'll help you." The familiar voice speaks again.  
"I don't need help." You remark apathetically, yanking the arrow from the bag once more and heading back to your place.  
"Why do you feel like you're alone?" The question takes you off guard.  
"I... don't.." is all you can manage to mutter as you carefully pick up your bow.  
"Yes, you do. Ever since I arrived here I've seen the way you've acted. You're kind, but you don't trust anyone. You'd prefer to eat alone, but Tormund has taken you under his wing. You refuse to interact or socialize after training, and avoid parties and drinking-"  
"That's not exactly a vice." You comment, stringing up another arrow and furrowing your eyebrows in concentration.  
"No, it's not. But it's not you. It wasn't who you were."  
"You know nothing of who I was."  
"I don't. Tormund does. He told me some things. That you were happy, social, loved to dream. You wanted to see the world and explore. You loved to play with your brothers and read with your mother. You loved to hunt with your father. You were a child, and your family was murdered by white walkers, so Tormund took you in. He did the best he could, but he can't give you back the life you had. Your family was your life, I understand..."  
You hadn't noticed the tear slipping from your eye until it was frozen on your cheek. You refuse to turn to her to let her see it.  
"I understand wholeheartedly. You don't trust anyone to protect you because no one protected you when you needed it. You won't let anyone in because you've been on your own for years now..."  
More tears begin to cascade down your face, small pieces of your hair fluttering around your cheeks and getting stuck to the small icicles of tears on your face.  
"You don't trust anyone but yourself. You can still change. I can help you. You need to know that there are people that can help you."  
"How? How do I know you'll help me? How do I know you're not like everyone else?" You scream, turning to her with angry, heartbroken eyes, finally breaking. You drop the bow from you hands as you stand with arms crossed from cold and frustration. The tears flow now openly. She looks at you with a solemn expression as she strides to you. She grabs the bow off the ground and takes an arrow from your quiver. She presses your back to her body as she takes your hand in hers to load the arrow, drawing it back.  
"Don't think about them when you shoot. It distracts you. As much as you want revenge, it will be your folly if you only think of them."  
It's difficult at first to not think of them. Mother. Father. Your brothers. You'd been doing everything to avenge them.   
You need to concentrate.  
You focus only on that dot.  
You feel the familiar small gust of wind as you watch the arrow fly.  
Crunch.  
You look to Brienne with a face of confusion and shock. She takes your hand and leads you to the bag, spilling with sand. The arrow sticks straight from the fresh spot, overflowing with grains of sand around the edges.  
Bullseye.  
You turn to her and engulf her in a hug, feeling her wrapping her arms around you brings you comfort. It reminds you of how your mother would hug you, a big bear hug that squeezed the air from your lungs in the best way, leaving you nearly breathless, spending the remainder of the contents of your lungs laughing and giggling. You release tears at the memory and the lovely sensation of a motherly love found once again. More importantly, you found trust again.  
"Come now, lets go inside. I'll teach you more once you eat something and warm up." She states as she keeps her arm around you, guiding you into the dining area. It feels good to trust again.


	9. Lost - Brienne/Pod/Tormund/Reader Friendship

You can see the hazy fog if your shallow breathing as it forms in the frozen air. Small billows of smoke leave your chapped, bleeding lips as your eyelashes flutter, trying to stay awake. Your whole body is numb now, it has been for hours, but you have to keep going. There are ice crystals hanging from your lashes, creating a kaleidoscope effect producing rainbows when you squint your eyes.your cheeks are reddened deeper as another batch of snow falls from the tree branches above you, cascading over your face like a frozen blanket. Your shivering hand wipes the remaining flakes away as you try to distract yourself from the pain as you focus on the crunch of snow beneath your shoes. They're now wet, leathery and practically useless, but they're still a tiny barrier between the snow and your frozen body. You're shaking horribly now, to the point where your steps are becoming uneven.  
You feel yourself falling before you can even react. Your hair is sprawled out in the snow before you can reach your hands down to catch yourself. You see tufts of the icy cotton move to form a barrier around your lump body, too weak to move. A tear falls from your cheek before you can stop it. You see the trees in the distance fade with the light of day. The sky is a deep purple now, signaling the progression of the moon to the sky as stars glitter the darkness.  
You shut your eyes to let the black, cold night engulf you.  
"Hey!" A deep, calloused voice calls out, echoing between the trees.  
It must be an illusion, a mirage or something, no one is out here at this time of day... well... night. Either way, you don't bother opening your eyes and get your hopes up only to see nothing. You're content with your death, might as well not tease yourself with a fake promise of salvation.  
"You trying to freeze to death, milady?" You hear the same voice only feet away from you.   
Finally, you open your eyes.  
Before you is a boy, probably about your age, maybe older. He's wearing brown furs and leather, with a chocolate brown horse being led behind him. He has dark, handsome hair that slightly blows in the cold breeze. He holds a lantern in his hand, sending a yellow, friendly hue to his deep eyes.  
"Are you... are you real?" You gasp the words desperately, practically breathless as you slightly raise yourself from your bed of snow.  
"Very real. Who are you?" He asks as he raises the lantern towards you to try to get a better look.  
"I'm Katherine. Who are you?" You manage to ask with chattering teeth.  
"Podrick Payne. How long have you been out here?"  
You look to the sky to see complete darkness.  
"I... I don't know... hours. I don't know. It's getting warmer though at least, I can't even feel the cold anymore!" You state as you smile.  
His face contorts into confusion and fear as you realize you are no longer cold.   
"Pod... where are you, we need to go back to winterfell now!" You hear a slightly higher pitched voice in the distance as another light approaches you.  
A tall, blonde figure riding on a white horse comes near.  
"Lady Brienne, help! We need to help!" Podrick shouts as she comes to a stop by you two, nearly trampling you both as the figure dismounts.  
Lady? Lady Brienne? Could it be THE lady Brienne? The tall, fierce soldier?   
"What did you get us into now P-" she cuts herself off with a gasp as she puts her lantern to you.  
I mean, you can't blame her, you must be a sight to see: nearly dead, probably blue skin, bleeding lips, lying almost lifeless in the snow, chocolate, long hair spread out around you, the only color left on you besides the brown of your eyes. You only have a black cloak and a thin tunic dress, but at least the cloak covers you.  
The woman raises a hand to your forehead as your eyes begin to flutter again. She gasps again.  
"She's freezing. We have to get her back. Now." She shouts before you feel your body being lifted into the air.   
"What's happening? Is she dying?" You hear the male voice as you're lifted onto a horse with the woman behind you.  
"Pod. NOW." She shouts again as the horse takes off, sending you flying backwards into her chest.  
You feel yourself falling sleepier as the ride goes on.   
"Stay awake! Listen to me, stay awake! What's your name? Hey! What is your name?" You hear her desperately trying to call you from your sleep.  
"Katherine..." you whisper gently before you feel your body become completely limp as the world fades away.

 

You hear mumbling.  
Everything sounds like it is being echoed or that it is far away. You have that underwater hearing, where everything is unclear and blurred. You open your eyes slightly and see blurred brown/orange hues. You blink them rapidly to try to get a clearer view, and see a few blurry figures before you. Your heating starts to get better, and you can make out certain words and parts of sentences.  
"She.. e okay." You hear a deep voice say.  
"Try... best... too late..." you can hear the woman from before saying.  
"No... e's fine... st resting now." You can hear the boy from earlier.  
"Who... she..." another voice says.  
"Her n... atherine.. I don't k..."   
You stir slightly to feel heavy weights on you, causing you to whimper.  
You hear gasping and the rumbling of footsteps as the figures come closer.  
"It's okay, everything's fine." You Podrick soothing you.  
You groan and whimper again as you struggle beneath the weight on top of you.  
"Shhhhh, it's alright. They're blankets. They're just blankets." You hear a deep voice comforting you and focus your eyes to see a red haired man with a beard and furs.  
You try to sit up but are too weak, so you get help from the boy as he leans you forward slightly.  
"Who... are..." is all you manage to croak out before they motion for you to stop speaking.  
"I don't know if you remember me, but my n-"  
"Pod." You manage to croak once again with a smile.  
He immediately grins and lays a hand on your shoulder, the warmth radiating on your skin comfortably as you lean your neck into the feeling.  
He laughs and you see everyone smile.  
"I'm Brienne of Tarth, and this is Tormund Giantsbane." The woman introduces you to the redhead.  
"I remember... Brienne... where you..."  
"Oh no! I'm just here to check on you and guard you. Make sure you're not some scout or spy trying to kill us all." He grins.  
"Not spy... midwife..." you mandate to mutter before coughing.  
"Where are you from?"  
"Wolfswood."  
"Why did you stray so far? Where were you going? You could have died!" The man states.  
"Running... thieves... house... saw it burning... ran for help... got lost." You choke with tears in your eyes.  
At this point you guess he knows you're not a spy because he once again soothes you and comforts you as he wipes your tears away.  
"You have a home here now." Brienne whispers.  
"Where... where..." you can only manage the word before you begin coughing violently.  
"Winterfell." Is what Pod tell you before you drift off to a more peaceful sleep.


	10. The good ones - reader/davos friends

You hold your hands up in surrender to the soldiers mounted on horseback surrounding you. The woods are dimly lit and you can feel the coldness of the wind biting your cheeks, your body covered in a cloak. The leader has a sinister looking face, shoulder length raven colored hair matching the patches of his mustache and beard. Scars are scattered around his face, cutting through his eyebrow and dancing fine lines along his cheekbones. The flayed man sigil waves aggressively in the wind.   
"Seven blessings." You state, your voice strong and unwavering as your wavy long hair flows in the wind.  
"Fuck blessings." You hear the leader spit the words angrily as his horse approaches you.   
You don't let your face show fear, even though it is coursing through your veins. You feared this house. You know what they're known for. For fucks sake their flag flies a tortured man.  
"I'm just passing though." You try to reason with them as you motion to the cliffs near the edge of the woods you're standing at.  
"Get through to where?" He asks suspiciously.  
"Home."  
"Where?"  
"I told you, home."  
"I know what you said, ya dumb cunt. I mean where is your home?"   
"I follow the cliff's edge north until I see the lantern out front... I don't really know which area to call it."  
"No town? City?"  
"No, just us near the sea."  
"Us?"  
"My... husband and I."   
You lied. But maybe he will let you free without question if he thinks a man is waiting for your return.  
"You're lying." He is seething, grabbing the hilt of his swords as he dismounts his chestnut colored horse and approaches you. You instinctively reach for your dagger.  
"I'm not." You mutter angrily.  
"What's your name then?" He barked, stepping angrily toward you, only inches away now.  
"Elna." You whisper, fear starting to creep into your voice.  
"Last name, ya dumb bitch!" He angrily yells as he grabs your hair and shakes you.  
"Fallnor." You yelp.  
"I know the Fallnors and none of his sons married you!" He snaps as he shakes you.  
You cry out as he shoves you to the ground and you land in a heap.  
"What's his name? If you name your husband then you can leave. If you get it wrong you'll be screaming like a pig tonight." He pulls out a mean looking dagger, the edges cut and stained with patches of a maroon color.  
You look around you to see yourself completely surrounded by men, although they have not yet drawn their weapons. The cliff is only about 200 feet away, and even though you don't exactly know if the sea is rough or the rocks sharp, anything is better than the slow death of having your skin peeled away. You slowly grab your dagger as you turn to the man closest towards the cliff and sink your dagger into his neck. You can feel the blood pour and spill over your face and body as you pull it back. You begin sprinting as you hear the gurgling of the dying man. As you look back you see the shocked expressions of the soldiers as some immediately try to save him; however, the rest draw their swords and run after you.  
You pump your arms as fast as you can as you feel your feet carry you across the uneven patches of grass. The moonlight is all the guides you towards the edges of the cliff, and you can hear the heavy jumble of footsteps and angry yelling behind you. You navigate the rocky and uneven terrain of the edge of the cliff, and you can see you're only a few feet away. You see the bright reflection of the moon in the water and you brace yourself. Your feet carry you to the edge and the stampede of men are inches away from you as you jump, flinging yourself high into the air as you fly over the edge of the cliff, descending towards the unknown. You look down to see heavy waves tossing and turning, terrifying and rough. The cliff is about 80 feet from the water, so you know you must land correctly. You scream as you can feel gravity pulling you towards the deep and you hold your breath as you hit the surface with your legs first. You feel the harshness of the waves engulfing you as your ears are filled with water with a swooshing sound. You zoom through the water and you open your eyes to see trails of bubbles following your path behind you like a shadow. You paddle towards the surface and push yourself upwards. Just as you reach the surface and gasp for air, another wave toppled you under again, rolling your body awkwardly and without control. You begin to lose direction of where the surface is as you struggle to hold your breath. You flail violently in hopes to find your way again and successfully break your head through the surface. You barely have time to collect your breath again as you feel yourself being tossed underneath the ocean again as a wave pushes you under. You can hear your muffled screaming as your body is spun powerfully in every direction. The turbulence of the waves drowns out your please for help from the gods as you can hear the roar of another wave already ripping you into another stormy fit. You are spun every way possibly and open your eyes to try to find some form of help only to see complete darkness as your eyes are assaulted by the saltiness of the sea and no way out.   
You can feel yourself passing out before you know what is happening as you let your body fall into an odd sort of sleep as you release your last breath of air.

*

You can hear a distant voice calling out to you. It sounds like a man calling out for you. Are the gods taking you? You cannot open your eyes, but you try to answer them. Your throat will not allow you to answer, and you try to with your vocal cords until you feel yourself sputtering. Coughing, you finally release the heaviness from your throat as a wetness falls over your lips and you choke up water until you can feel you can breathe again.   
You open your eyes to see an unknown figure.  
A gray haired man with a friendly face is pounding on your chest and I peeling next to you.  
You turn to your side one last time and release a large amount of water, coughing and inhaling violently as you hear a pat of your back.  
"There you go, there you go. Stay with me." A rough voice commands you.  
You look to see he is missing fingers and has some burns in his face. His eyebrows look permanently furrowed and his lines of stress and years have formed on his forehead.  
You breathe heavily and cough every now and then, but you can breathe. You move your fingers to feel coarse sand in your grip, and try to wiggle your toes in your boots to see that's they're missing as your feet also dig into the sand. You look to see the moonlight fading into the sea with a purple color taking control of the sky, light pink hues and orange dancing the sky as red decorates near the edge of the deep purple.  
You move your finger to your cloak to feel it soaked through completely, and move your other hand to try to touch your face.  
"Oh! Don't touch that!" He pleaded as he moved your hand away from your face. "There's a wound I need to stitch up on your cheek there. You must've hit some rocks coming in."   
You feel your head pounding with pain as your body aches. Your lips feel so chapped that they're bleeding.  
"Are... are they gone?" You rasp gently.  
"Who? Is who gone?" He inquired, obviously curious and slightly concerned.  
"There were solders. Bolton soldiers. They tried to kidnap me and I had to jump..."   
"They probably think you're dead. I mean, I thought you were when I saw you washing up onto the shore." He jokes as he offers to help you up.  
"Are you one of them?" You whisper.  
"Bolton? No, I'm a seaworth. Davos." He laughs as he helps pick you up and hobble to where he is camped.  
"Seaworth... onions, right?" You question curiously.  
"Very good, you know your houses, say, what are you my lady?"  
"Rogers, Elna Rogers my lord."   
"Rogers? Nine unicorns? You're a unicorn girl aren't you?"  
"Indeed." You smile proudly at your family's sigil.  
"Did you tell them that? Is that why they tried to kill you? Because your house is not supporting them like mine?"  
"Well, I lied. I tried to say I was a different person that supported them but couldn't live the past I guess." You sarcastically joke as you limp inside the small cave where a fire is crackling.  
"I was just about to make some rabbit stew when I saw you wash up on the sands... you're the first one to make it back here with me ya know?" He comments.  
"Really? I'm the first one?"   
"There have been dozens of people washing up on these shores from shipwrecks, executions, or just accidents. All tried to be saved, but all never made it. You're one lucky girl." He jokes as he hands you a piece of bread.  
You give him a sympathetic expression.  
"I couldn't possibly eat your food you need it! I-"  
"You," he he holds the bread out to you again, "will be my guest." He chimed with a smile as he takes a bite from his own piece of bread.  
You take a bite in response and he laughs, focusing on making the stew, a content expression on his face.  
"Thank you." You murmur politely.  
"For saving you?" He asks, confused.  
You nod your head earnestly and he releases a heavy laugh.  
"You're gonna thank me for being a decent human being?"   
"There aren't too many left in this world." You stare into the fire as you tell him.  
"Ayy, but I think the gods help me bring back the good ones." He hums with a smile.  
"Well, I'd say they send the good ones to save the decent ones if you ask me." You beam as you look at him.  
He reaches behind him and bring back two tin cans and a bottle of something. It looks to be a deep wine. He pours out two cups and hands one to you.  
"Well then, how about a cheers to the good ones." He jokes as you clink the cans and sip generously.


	11. Home - reader/Sansa/ Jon/ Tormund/Brienne friendship rescue

You kick the long, tattered edges of your onyx dress as you walk along the dimly lit path, covered in snow. The wet and heavy ends of your dress slightly weigh the dress down, causing you to aggressively push the material forward with your feet in order to move at a decent pace, which you need to do immediately. You swing your basket back and forth.  
The moon is full and bright enough to guide you in a general path, but with darkness comes terrible things. Wolves. Thieves. Worse.  
You were sent by your innkeeper to retrieve more cloves from a local herb dealer, but it took longer than you anticipated, thus the darkness now encompassing your figure. You know you shouldn't be out here, alone, especially as a woman, but you had no choice. The herb dealer was sketchy as it was, and it was more of a risk to stay than head out. You have no money, and you refuse to sleep with some patron or owner of an inn or bar to earn yourself a roof to sleep under. You must go back to your inn, where the cruel man who owns it will at least give you a space to sleep. Maybe not if you make this delivery late.  
You hear a cracking of a stick which draws your attention. You quickly jerk your head in the direction it came from only to see a young man holding a sword in his hand. It is fancy and slightly jagged, glistening in the moonlight. He has a scar on his face, roughly tracing the outline of his left cheekbone. He wears all black, has black hair, and an evil look on his face. You recognize his face, unfortunately, from a wanted poster posted in the inn. He's Vol Morton, a leader of a band of robbers and murderers that came from the Bolton's service and hunt anything for sport. He's even wearing his flayed man sigil. They kill for anything. You immediately drop your wicker basket as you are struck with fear, and watch as your brown clove buds scatter across the snow.  
You begin to move your feet backwards and slightly take small steps back before a sinister voice behind you taunts, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."  
You turn quickly to see a red headed man in all black with a bow and arrow about three feet away from you, the tip of the arrow aimed directly at your quickly beating heart. Behind him stands two men, both with brown hair and plain faces. They also hold swords out towards you. A woman with dark, kinky black hair and a sadistic smiles strides forward confidently with a small knife in her hand, gently twirling it between her fingers in play. You've seen her before on a wanted poster as well, Bella Tricston, Vol's partner in crime and in love. She likes to torture people before she kills them.   
You unintentionally gulp loudly as you asses the situation at hand. You have no money, no weapon, and no help.  
The woman makes a mocking tick noise with her mouth as she feigns an apologetic and pitiful look. She takes small steps as she circled around you, analyzing you like prey. You shiver under her heavy scrutiny and constantly keep your eyes locked on her location.  
"Darling, how old are you?" She sweetly asks, her voice filled with a false motherly touch.  
At first you do not answer, refusing to play into their little game. You shake, partly from the cold as well as your fear.  
"We aren't going to hurt you..." the woman coos as she approaches you and gently caresses your partly exposed clavicle as you turn away. "Now, how old are you?"   
"Twenty." You answer with your face to the ground, eyes trained on the snow beneath you.  
"There... you see? That wasn't so bad was it?" She softly murmured, this time moving her hand to touch a loose strand of hair by your cheek. "Why are you so frightened, love?"   
"It's frightening to travel alone... and you scared me..." you softly whisper, your breath coming out in short rasps forming fog from your breath.  
"I do suppose we did surprise you, didn't we?" The black haired man approached the woman and he skimmed his arm around her waist.  
You try your best to put on a friendly smile and giggle softly. "Well, no harm done! Now if you will excuse me, I must be get-"  
Just as you are about to take a step around the pair, the man holds his sword up in front of your face, merely an inch from you.   
"Now, what did we say about trying to move away from us?" The man chimed as a smile grew on his face.  
"I... I thought you were letting me go home..." you stumble over your words with both confusion and terror.  
"Now, why would be let some little girl tell the whole town that we're here?" The woman happily chimed in.  
"I'm sorry, what? I'm confused. Who are you?" You attempt to act confused, but they don't buy it.  
"Please, we've seen the signs plastered around this shithole little town, don't you dare try and take us for idiots." The man interrupts your facade angrily.   
You're caught.  
"I won't... I won't tell anyone..." you whisper sheepishly, looking to them in desperation as they all laugh.  
"Darling, you really think we believe that?" The woman says as she twirls her knife in her hand.  
You look from the man to the woman once before you try to bust out running again, only to feel a strong set of arms quickly wrap around you as you kick and scream in fear while the man and woman walk to face you once again.  
"Bring her down, I can't play with her when she's that high up!" The girl practically sings as she plays with her knife.  
"What do you think? Tie her to a tree so she won't struggle? Tie her up on the ground?" The man holding you asks.  
"Hmmmmmm, what about tying her hands together and stringing them up there!" The woman nods over to a large oak tree dusted in snow a few feet away.  
"Darling, your ideas are phenomenal." The man praises as he begins to kiss the woman deeply while the red headed man holds you tightly as the other men tie your hand in front of you and throw the rope over an ice covered branch. You can feel your arms suddenly being jerked out of your control and forwards as you are dragged towards the tree. The quick movement throws you off balance and causes you to trip, tumbling forward into a bank of snow, your already freezing clothes becoming soaked with the cold wetness on the ground, partly a muddy sludge at your feet. Your face is now a bright red from hitting the freezing ground, and you can feel your lip bleeding as you whimper. It now is starting to flurry relentlessly, heavy snowflakes biting at your cheeks and exposed skin. You release a low grunt as you can feel your body being dragged as the three men pull the rope, sending you flying across the ground. You sniffle gently, trying not to cry at the pain of your body being tossed around purposefully and your imminent death, a painful one at that.   
You finally release a sob of pain as your body is lifted into the air completely, your arms held above your head by the rope while your small body dangles slightly above the ground. You swing gently, twirling ungracefully as you try to loosen the ropes or escape, causing them to laugh.  
"She's ready for you both!" The red haired man calls out.   
Your body turns and you look to see them smiling as they approach you, the woman clearly eager to continue her work on a fresh canvas.  
"This one's pretty... such a waste..." the woman coos as she brings her hand to caress your soft face. You turn your head away quickly and she laughs.  
"Well, she's a feisty one, that's going to be fun at least." The man says as he brings his hand to touch the outline of your chest, caressing the soft lace outline of your corset and attempting to dip his hand inside.  
That's it.   
Before you can think twice about what you're doing, your foot is deeply rooted in his most precious place, causing him to whine and fall to his knees.  
The woman looks to him in shock and then you feel your cheek burn as she lands a slap to your face. You jerk your head to the side from the force, and feel more blood spill from your already bleeding lip. Now, your nose is bleeding as well. You turn back to the woman to see her comforting her man, and he shoves her away as he turns back to you.  
"Now you've earned it, bitch." The man angrily mutters as he begins to untie his breeches. The woman slightly pushes him backwards in anger as the man looks at her in surprise.  
"You can't fuck her." She seethes.  
"Why? You saw what she did!" He spits back.  
"Because I'm yours now, and I'm only yours. You can't fuck this whore because you're angry!"  
Just as you are about to object to her name calling, you hear a trotting of hooves in the distance, but they are too busy fighting to hear or focus on it.  
"Just because you're mine now doesn't mean I can't teach wenches like this a lesson."  
"You only share your bed with me, you know that! We're married now!"  
"I can fuck whoever I want, Bella! If you don't like it, then fuck off." He says as he attempts to touch your breasts once again.  
Before either you or Bella can stop him, he lurches forward awkwardly and has an odd expression on his face. Suddenly, he coughs on you, where a red, sticky liquid lands.   
Bella screams loudly as Vol falls to the ground, an arrow sticking from his back. She grabs her knife and attempts to slash your throat until an arrow flies through hers when she's almost killed you. You could feel the slight cut and a rush of liquid on your throat but you are too focused to notice. She falls to the ground as well and you look towards the men holding your rope up. They seem just as confused until an arrow hits on in the head while the others scatter, leaving you falling to the wet earth. You land in a patch of red snow and scramble to get away from the bodies as you can now see the horses riding towards you. There are about seven of them total. You back against the tree suddenly in fear, until you hear a woman's gentle voice calling out to you from a horse, "It's alright, they won't hurt you."   
They are nearly all a few feet in front of you when the red headed woman dismounts from her horse eagerly, going towards you. A tall blonde woman desperately shouts, "Lady Sansa, wait!"; however, the girl is already at your side when the woman is drawing her sword. You scoot backwards in fear when you see the sword being drawn and the other dismounting with their weapons.  
"Don't! Can't you see she's frightened?" The girl calls out desperately as she attempts to approach you. She suddenly sees the man's sigil of the house of Bolton, and she gains a serious look on her face.  
"They didn't... hurt you... did they?" She whispers sadly to you.  
"No, no my lady. You all arrived just in time. If you had been one minute later I don't think I'd be alive to tell you that." You praise. She smiles at that, until the blonde woman interrupts you both.  
"You're bleeding." She states as she rips a piece of cloth from the dead woman in front of you both and presses it to your chin. You didn't even think about injuries. Bella must have nicked you when she tried to slash your throat. Your adrenaline must have taken the pain from your thoughts.  
"Oh it's nothing!" You attempt to squash their worries before you feel light headed and hold onto the tree for support as you stumble.  
"We have to take her back to Winterfell." The girl commands to the small group of men on horseback.  
A man with shoulder length black hair and tans facial hair looks to the girl with concern. "Sansa, we don't know anything about her. What if sh-"   
"No, Jon. Those were Bolton's men. You know as well as I do what they do to innocent people, good people. He was probably going to..." she looks into space with sorrowful features as her sentence trails into nothingness.  
The man sighs and looks towards you with sad eyes. "Are you one of them?"   
"No! I was just trying to go back to work at the inn! I had to get clove for my maste- oh no! Where is it?!?" You look around desperately and spot your basket in the distance. You sprint towards it, the small caravan following you.  
You release a cry as you look at the remnants of your survival. The cloves are completely muddy and ruined, the wicket basket broken. It's ruined. When he sees this...  
You fail to your knees and lay your head in your hands as you begin to sob.  
You feel a hand on your back and turn to see a large red headed man rubbing your back comfortingly.  
"There, there, beauty. It's going to be alright." He whispers soothingly as he kneels with you.  
"No! No! No! He's going to kill me! He's going to kill me! Or worse! He'll throw me out! He'll brand me again! He'll... do terrible, terrible things." You whimper as you sob into your hands and lean into the hug that the man offers you.  
"Jon, leaving her will be a death sentence. If she goes to her innkeeper, he's going to kill her, if we leave her here, she'll bleed to death. We cannot let her die." You hear the familiar voice of the red headed girl again as she kneels beside you.  
"Lady Sansa is right." You hear the deep voice of the other woman as well as a grunt of approval from the man holding you and the other riders.  
"She can stay, but you will take responsibility of her." Jon states.  
"I will look after her with the utmost care." She states as she brushes a loose piece of hair from your face.  
"What is your name?" The girl asks.  
"(Y/n)".  
"Alright, (y/n), we're going home. You'll be safe here." She chirps happily as she takes your hand.


	12. River - Jaime/Brienne

"Maybe one day we'll find out, Kingslayer." Brienne calmly states as she grabs the wooden oar from the small open space in the tiny boat, pushing gently off the bank as the current begins to take the boat along the swift waters. The swishing and rattling of the water puts them both at ease, but Jaime could tell that the currents were rougher than she anticipated. He wears a worried and confused expression as he watches her paddle along, occasionally switching the oar to each side as clumps of her straw colored hair stick to her forehead from exertion.   
Jaime notices the small waves that begin rising higher and nearly splashing into the boat and looks at Brienne in confusion. "Does this wench realize that we'll be tipping over into the water soon? She'll drown..." Jaime wonders with concern present with his furrowed eyebrows and scrunched facial features. Brienne notices the change in expression and gives him an odd look.  
"Do you hear that?" Jaime mockingly states.  
"Hear what?" She answers, annoyance present in her voice as she continues to focus on paddling and no longer looks towards him.   
"The stream is rough. We'll be tossed over soon by the sounds of it..." Jaime sarcastically stares as he strains to turn around and look at the water in front of them.  
The river is turning into rapids. Fast currents sweep water in bubbles and create rivulets of zooming bullets that cascade into dips in height and rocks.   
"Untie me!" Jaime quickly pled, eyes filling with growing terror.  
Brienne still carefully trains her eyes on the future path of water, but she is realizing the danger slowly.  
"Why would I do that?" She bluntly queried.  
"When we hit those currents..." Jaime motions to the waters just a few hundred feet away, "we'll both be swept under. I won't be able to swim with my hands tied and you'll drown as you're weighed down by your armor..." he begins as his eyes motion to the heavy metal she currently wears.   
She looks briefly to her gear and her eyes widen, but she desperately tried to return to her cool demeanor.  
"Do you take me for a fool? Trying to escape won't work, Kingslayer." She calmly retorts.  
"Listen, wench. I won't be able to take you for a fool if our bones will be lying scattered across the bottom of the river for the next few years being picked at by dwelling creatures. You'd be a fool to ignore the danger. Untie me, and I'll help you swim to the bank. Leave me, and I'll try to make it myself. Either way, I have a chance at living while you'll be drug down to the bottom by your armor and ignorance." He cautioned threateningly as the boat was rocked, knocking Brienne off balance and dropping the oar into the rushing waters. She tightly gripped the sides of the boat, eyes filled with terror and lost hope as he stares at her in awe and confusion.  
She may be a blindingly stubborn, but he has never seen her look defeated until now. This is the first time she has had no choice but to yield. There is no one to fight, nowhere to fight. He's right. He looks at her as if she were a scared child and feels sorry for her. She has been ridiculed her whole life by others and now him. She refuses to trust anyone except herself, and now she feels helpless, betrayed by her own decisions. She's stubbornly loyal, and he can do nothing but admire her for it.  
She looks to him in ruin and skepticism and as she takes out her sword, the blade glimmering in the sunlight. Jaime holds out his bound hands to her in an offering of peace as the small boat once again is tormented by a violent wave, throwing them both off balance. There's not much time.  
Brienne slightly falls forward from the turbulence and Jaime steadied her with his bound hands as she tightly clings to the edge of the boat. She once again grabs her sword and gently slices the tied that once bound him.  
He releases a groan and rubs his left wrist with his right hand, feigning a calm attitude as he sweeps his long hair from his face. Brienne looks to him with furrowed brows and wide eyes, absolutely terrified. Jaime looks to her with a raised eyebrow.  
"Well, wench, at least now w-"   
He is cut off by the boat being knocked violently to the left, they finally hit the rapids. The boat turns suddenly and flips them both out completely as it overturns and sinks. Jaime reaches for Brienne and can only hear her frightened, deep scream as the water engulfs them both.  
He is being pushed and pulled every way by the water, tumbling and being violently thrown against rocks. The water is murky, but he opens his eyes and can still see the slight shine of her armor being tossed powerfully and seeing her limbs flailing helplessly. He begins losing air and desperately looks to the sparkling surface of the water when he looks back towards Brienne. She must have just hit her head, because she stopped fighting and is sinking lifelessly to the floor of the river, golden hair spread around her peaceful face. He looks once more to the surface before sighing and swimming deeper toward Brienne. "If I die getting you, wench, the gods will have a fit of laughter won't they?" He thinks as he paddles desperately towards her. She finally stops sinking and her body collapses as she hits the floor.   
He tried to pull her up but the armor is too heavy. He sees her sword lying a few feet and swims to retrieve it. As he brings it back he begins cutting the leather straps of her heavy armor. He's losing air quickly. He finally cuts the final strap and rips the metal off forcefully as he grabs her hand, kicking off the bottom strongly as he pulls her to the surface.  
He's gasping for air, yanking her body up behind him and putting her hands around his neck to keep her above water. He looks back to see her, still unconscious, her head lulling to the side as he rushes to the bank. He nearly slips on the muddy edge but keeps his balance as he throws them both on the ground. Panting, he lays beside her catching his breath until he realizes she had not yet taken a breath.  
"Don't die on me, wench." He thinks as he jumps into action, quickly rolling over to begin pumping on her chest. He repeats the motion that he's seen some of his men use on the field of battle. Sometimes it works, and other times not. Might as well try.  
"Come on!" He yells desperately, continuing to try. As he pushes harshly over her heart in rhythm to what it should be doing, he can hear a slight gurgle sound coming from her throat.  
"That's it! Come on, wench!" He commands, excitement creeping into his voice as he smiles down at her. She suddenly lurches forward and coughs violently, water spraying from her lips as she scrunches her face together.  
"That's it, Brienne, keep coughing." He calmly states as he places a hand on her back, supporting her body as she coughs up small fits, water generously exiting her body as Jaime encourages her. Finally, once all the water is out, she collapses to the ground, exhausted, opening her eyes.  
It is then that she smiles gently.  
"What could you possibly be smiling about, you almost died?" Jaime questions sarcastically as he leans down beside her.  
"You forgot to call me wench, Kingslayer." She mutters.  
"What?" He furrows his brows in confusion as she continues.  
"You said 'brienne'... you called me Brienne..." she laughs as he looks at her in awe.  
"Well, wench, don't count on another slip up. Hopefully I won't have to call you back from death again." He laughs as they both lay down on the ground, resting.   
This is the most content that he's been in a long time. He can't remember a time where he felt truly, unapologetically happy. And he wants it to last, even if he has to put up with this stubborn wench. After all, she made an oath.


	13. Future - Tormund/brienne

You're casually strolling the yard when you catch sight of her. She's dueling with Pod, the young squire, and you hear a series of frustrated yelps and grunts of anger from the boy as Brienne beats him every time. You watch her casually chirp "no!" As she taps her sword to his back, causing him to yell through gritted teeth in anger. Just as she is about to reposition herself for the next duel, she catches sight of you with a look of surprise. You then release a smile and raise your eyebrows up seductively, strutting towards the pair. Her eyes fill with a familiar look as she realizes you want to talk to her again, causing her to lose focus and drop her guard.  
Taking advantage of the situation, Podrick quickly lands a decent strike on her shoulder, sending a thick cracking sound through the wind in addition to his grunt. Brienne reacts immediately with eyes full of anger at herself for getting distracted, and she immediately gets her fight back. She gives Podrick a swift kick to the gut and pushes him powerfully into a small snowbank on the ground, sending snow flying into the air as you hear the scraping of metal as Podrick's sword hits the ground.   
"You're a lucky man." You enthusiastically state to the young man currently face first in the snow, his breath gently moving flakes of the icy cotton everywhere.  
It is then that your eyes turn and lock on your target, the beautiful goddess that is Brienne. She's such a beauty, her golden hair, strong muscles. God, that woman could chop off your balls and you'd be honored.   
As you look back to Brienne and raise your eyebrows seductively, to which she responds by looking away and shifting uncomfortably in the snow, her sword pointed to the ground.  
You approach her with a strut, practically walking like a peacock across the snow covered ground as you gage her discomfort and shyness with a devilish grin.  
"Ya fight mean, like a bear, my beauty." You beam flirtatiously as you approach her, only inches separating your cold bodies.  
"I fight with honor, that's how I beat a bear." She shyly murmurs the last part, hoping you would not hear it.  
But you did  
"A bear? You fought a bear?" Your eyes shoot open in shock and awe as she rolls her eyes and looks away. "I always liked bears. Quick. Feisty. Real challenge ,ya know, not only to fight, but to fuck." You teasingly emphasize the last word and watch her squirm. She's not used to such vulgarity, but you keep your northern language in every situation.   
"You can't possibly expect me to believe that." She mockingly challenges.  
"Oh, my beauty, but it's true. She was a big and feisty thing, just like you. Great big monster claws, angry eyes, but soft and sweet down below." You finish your description with a wicked smirk as she once again looks away with a crimson blush spreading through her cheeks.  
"What is it, beauty? You still don't believe me now?"   
"Tormund, we both know you didn't... lay with a bear."   
Why does she choke on the word? Oh, she's still a maid! You had completely forgotten. Of course she's shy, she's not become a woman yet.  
"I can show you what I did, and then you can decide if you believe my words... and my actions..." You coo seductively as an even deeper shade of red takes over her cheeks and spreads to her neck.  
She likes it.  
"That won't be necessary. I must go to Lady Sansa now." Brienne hurriedly confesses as she trains her eyes to the ground and dashes across the training yard towards the red haired girl upon the stairs.  
For one second she looks back to you with a look of confusion and you wink. She's yards away but you can distinctly see the red color her cheeks once more and you release a laugh.  
Podrick stands awkwardly beside you as he dusts off the remaining snow flakes.  
I want to make babies with her... great big monsters. They'll conquer the world! Great big warriors. Just like you, and just like her. She'd be a great mother. You have daydreams of helping deliver your first born together, and giving a kiss to the babe's head as you hand it to Brienne. Her large, calloused hands enveloping the babe with care and love. Her eyes drip rivulets of motherly love as she sees the visual equivalent of your love being held and supported in her own hands. You land a kiss on her forehead as the vision changes.  
Now there are two babes suckling at her milky breasts as she tried to keep her eyes open, barely getting any sleep with the fussy children. It's an amazing sight. Her eyes are drifting down as if holding up a tremendous weight. She sits in a wooden chair half asleep, a warm glow on her face from the fire as her golden hair is strewn across her glistening forehead.  
A new vision appears of the two of you in a steaming hot spring, naked as the day you were born. The steam rises from the blue waters as she envelops you in a hungry kiss, body heat rising. She moans as she sits down and takes you fully, a deep, throaty sound. As you begin to thrust into her you can hear her heavy panting and see the flush on her cheeks, spreading down her long neck, down further past her strong shoulders, straight to her perky-  
"Tormund!"  
You are shaken from your thoughts with a jump as you look to see the boy standing there with a curious look on his face.  
"I've called your name but you didn't answer. Are you all right?" He questions, voice full of terror.  
"I'm fine, boy. Just thinkin about the future." You casually murmur as you look up towards Brienne, speaking with the Statk girl and the skinny fucker.  
You will protect her.  
You will protect your future.


	14. Shattered - Tormund/Jaime/brienne

"It's the only way." You desperately mutter as you catch sight of an icy, frozen river about forty feet wide and miles long. The heavy snowflakes are driving in and out of your vision and weigh down your eyelashes. You look to Jaime in a terrified state.  
You had been looking for white walkers with Jaime along the outskirts of the wall and for a while everything seemed fine; that is, until you had encountered a pack of about fifty of them on your way back. You could hear their shrill screaming and the two of you immediately looked to each other in fear. No horses and only their swords against fifty would be a suicide mission, so you had to try to outrun them and warn the others.   
You look to Jaime, out of breath from sprinting a long distance and he nods back in fear. You cautiously place your foot on the ice and hear a crackling sound beneath you, and you look to see small lines forming deeply around the area you applied pressure to.  
"Brienne!" Jaime shouts, voice filled with worry.  
You look back to see what caught his attention only to see the white walkers, about twenty feet away and eyes locked on you both.  
Suddenly Jaime grabs your hand and practically pulls you across the beginning part of the ice. The slippery surface is difficult to manage, and you take the pace lighter in order not to apply too much pressure. Just as you are about half way there, you hear a cracking sound behind you. You glance back to see the army of the dead hammering their weapons into the ice, breaking it. You hear an echoing crack, and look to see a deep crevasse forming in between your feet and your balance is put off by uneven surfaces.  
"Brienne! Look ou-" is all you manage to hear before your body falls through the crackling ice.   
You are immersed in what feels like needles in your body from the cold. You have never been this cold. It is as if you have been buried in a sea of ice, and your body is quickly turning numb. Your hair is whipping every which way from the cold current around you, and you look up just in time to see the surface of the water where you fell through glistening and gleaming in the sunlight. You are only about a foot from the surface but cannot bring yourself to move; your muscles have seemed to become paralyzed, you cannot feel your body whatsoever.  
Suddenly you feel a force pulling you upwards and look to see Jaime, pulling you towards the surface. As your face breeches the surfaces you release a painful gasp of air as you quickly pant for more.  
"Thank the gods! Come on, Brienne, I need you, hold on."  
He heaves your upper body upon the ice, which luckily does not give beneath your weight. Your nails scratch to get a grip as you pull your body the rest of the way up, struggling to breathe. Once you are fully out of the freezing water, you feel yourself being dragged.  
"Come on, wench, we're almost there.... you're alright." He soothes desperately as he helps you to your feet. Suddenly you're at the edge of the river and you collapse onto the ground. Jaime takes a large rock by you and smashes it onto the riverbank, sending the remaining pieces of ice crackling and effectively breaking into millions of small pieces, now moving with the river.   
"Now they can't get us, come on!" He encourages as he once again lifts your weight onto him as he helps you stumble towards winterfell.  
"So... cold..." you manage to mutter between chattering teeth. The wind bites at your dampened cheeks, your ears aching as they are enduring the freezing weather. You are feeling weaker by the second. You look to see Jaime staring into your eyes as you try to muster the strength to carry on. He looks extremely concerned.  
"I'm not letting you go." Is all he manages to choke out as he continues dragging you to winterfell.   
Eventually, you can see the burning torches of winterfell in the distance. You can smell the smoke from the fires and see the dark wood of the gates. You release a sigh of relief.   
You suddenly trip over your feet as you try to walk faster. You fall with a groan along with Jaime into the snow and feel a numbness take over you.  
"Jaime, I'm so tired..." you manage to whisper.  
He looks you up and down before looking into your eyes.  
"Brienne, your armor is weighing you down. And it's also freezing. I have to take it off." He cautions as he looks to you for confirmation.  
"No... " you whisper softly.  
"Brienne! Do you want to live?"   
"Yes."  
"Then I have to do this."  
You look to him with a look of fear and nervousness. Your armor is your protection, not only from enemies but also from the sneering of men. You've never looked like the ladies you had read about as a child, and the boys never missed an opportunity to remind you about that. No one can say anything when you're knocking them to the ground as you proudly sport your armor.  
"Brienne... it's alright..." he coos as he caresses your face. You can feel yourself blushing, probably the only bit of color left in your face. He seems to understand all of your thoughts, all of your worries, and soothes them.  
You finally nod to him in acceptance as you close your eyes, refusing to look at him from embarrassment.  
You can hear the clinking of metal as he begins undoing the straps of your armor. It is then that you realize he is doing all of this with one hand, and very quickly. You feel a heavy weight being lifted from your chest, and shiver as your wet small clothes are exposed to the freezing temperatures. He quickly moves to strap on oathkeeper to him as he removes the heavy outer skirt of your armor.   
He moves you back to your feet and you feel significantly lighter. You quickly manage to limp to the gates as they open, shifting your weight as you once again trip and stumble inside.  
"Help us! Please! White walkers! She needs help!" Jaime manages to desperately shout as the people begin to scurry about in a fret. You manage to see a few soldiers on horseback head out towards the river as the women rush to help Brienne. Suddenly, Tormund rushes towards you and falls to his knees in front of you.  
"What happened?" He shouts, voice full of concern. He quickly puts his hand to your shivering body and jumps back.  
"She's freezing!" He yells to Jaime and he nods worriedly.  
Suddenly you're being scooped up into Tormund's arms and bounce as he runs you inside.  
You are immediately greeted by the warmth inside and your eyes begin to flutter.  
"Stay awake, beauty." He whispers between heavy breathing as he takes you into a room with a large, inviting bed.  
Jaime lifts the covers for you as you are placed carefully in the center.  
A woman quickly enters the room with warm looking blankets.  
"We have to get her out of these! Help!" The girl shouts quickly as she begins lifting your tunic up. Your stomach is exposed only slightly when you release a cry.  
"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" The girl asks, worried.  
Instead of responding, you look to the two men in the room as they look towards the ground.  
"Brienne, we want to help you. We understand if you don't want us in the room, but you know we won't mock you or tease you. I mean, I only do it on certain occasions, but never in or about something like this." Jaime stated as he approaches the bed.  
"Yes, beauty, we want to help you, not hurt you." Tormund adds compassionately.  
Your eyes start watering and you eventually nod for the woman to carry on with what she was doing.  
Jaime and Tormund quickly assist and gently get you free of your clothes, leaving you completely naked. You are too numb to move, except for the shivering. You simply just lay there without care until Jaime takes a large blanket and wraps it completely around you. You sigh into the feeling of warmth on your body. It feels to nice, and the new warmth of his skin feels so nice. Tormund does the same and you once again release a content gasp of air at his warmth.  
After a few hours of watching you for signs of hypothermia or worse and giving you warm stew, the woman gets up from her chair in the room with a creak, directing all of your attention to her.  
"I'll leave you two to watch over her for now. You seem to be able to handle it." The woman says calmly and happily as she smiles and shuts the door.  
You are warm and happy tucked in with your blankets.  
"That was close, Brienne. We almost lost you." Jaime states emotionally.  
You look into his eyes and see true relief.  
"Can I go to sleep now?" You whisper, eyes fluttering shut. You don't even wait to hear an answer as you fall peacefully into sleep.  
*  
Suddenly you are back at the river and running from the white walkers. You turn back to see Tormund and Jaime fall into the ice as you scream and call out for them.   
"Tormund! Jaime! Come back!"   
You search for them but find nothing in the water.   
You immediately begin screaming and crying for them, confessing your true feelings.  
"Come back! I love you! I love you, please, please come back!"  
Suddenly, you can hear the crackling of the ice and yourself falling.  
"Brienne!"  
You are awoken by the shaking of your body and the calling of your name as you gasp for air. You look up with wide eyes to see the same terrified expressions of Tormund and Jaime.   
"Are you alright?" Jaime whispers, calmingly rubbing small circles against your back.  
"Yes... just a bad dream." You stutter over your own words as you sit up, forgetting your nudity until you have to tank up the covers over your bare breasts again.  
"Ay, beauty, you don't have to worry about that in front of us. We've both seen it all now." Tormund comforts with a giggle as you turn a deep crimson color.  
"Twice now. Don't forget the bath." Jaime adds with a wicked grin.  
You shiver at the memory.  
"You remember it now too?" He jokes at your reaction with a giggle.  
"No! I'm just cold!" You nervously exclaim.  
"Well, beauty, you know what we used to do with our tribes to warm up? Skin to skin contact! It heats the body tremendously!" Tormund adds with a look of seriousness.  
"That's actually not a bad idea. It does work." Jaime affirmed with a look of confirmation.  
You laugh deeply until you notice that they are not joking.  
"Brienne, you're still cold. You fell in ice for gods sake!" Jaime exclaims.  
"We won't try anything." Tormund adds.  
"Like I'd believe that." You scoff.  
"You have my word." He states.  
"And mine." Jaime nods in agreement.  
"You can't be serious?" You shake your head in confusion.  
"Brienne, you're still recovering from practically freezing to death. We've already seen you naked, it's not like we're doing it to take advantage of you." Jaime adds with a serious expression.  
You look to him with a serious expression before you realize it might not be the worst idea. You'd heard of skin to skin contact being used for people being stuck in freezing weather to keep each other warm, and you're still freezing cold. Jaime would never dishonor you. Tormund appreciates you too much for him to do anything stupid.  
You shake your head.  
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but alright." You declared as you look to their stunned faces. Both have wide eyes and open mouths.  
"If you're just going to stand there then this won't work." You quickly noted, sending them both scrambling to take off their shoes and clothes. You close your eyes until the both settle in beside you.   
It is odd feeling their warm bodies next to you knowing what is there, but you feel surprisingly comforted by their presence.  
As you all lay down on the bed together in complete silence, Jaime breaks it.  
"We heard what you said about us in your dream, Brienne..." Jaime whispers calmly into your ear.  
You quickly turn to look into his eyes and see nothing but acceptance. You look back to Tormund as see the same. You once again redden and your eyes water from fear and embarrassment.  
"I... I was afraid t-" you begin before being interrupted by Jaime.  
"We know, and we feel the same way for you. We actually had the same conversation once you were asleep about how we felt."   
You look towards the ceiling and refuse to accept their words. They're going to mock you. They'll kick your body and tell you false stories of wanting to make love to you like the other boys did, only to laugh and jeer at you after.  
"I refuse to be made a fool. Don't mock me." You mumble, trying to keep your voice from breaking.  
"We aren't mocking you. We wouldn't dream of it, beauty." Tormund purrs.  
You look into his eyes to see nothing but pure appreciation. You quickly turn to Jaime.  
"I know he cares for me and wouldn't mock me, but how do I know you won't be like all the other men." You evenly state, apathetically looking to him.  
"If I was not attracted to you, then why do I have this?" He reassured, using his good hand to grab yours and drag it down past his chest, stomach, and finally to that secret place. He brings your palm over the hard surface, and you gasp as you realize that it is for you. He has this reaction to your body and presence. You quickly jerk your hand back and look into his eyes to see tears forming.  
"I don't know why I didn't see it until you were almost gone, but I love you, Brienne. I don't know what I'd do without you." He confesses.  
At this, you put your hand on his cheek soothingly as he grabs your face in his palm and guides you to him. He envelops you in a chaste kiss that quickly turns hungry. Sloppy, needy kisses are given as your tongues fight for control. Just as you gasp for air, you feel yourself being pulled to Tormund.  
"I love you too, beauty." He grins as he envelops you in the same manner, claiming you as his as well. When you both pull away from each other, you feel both Tormund's and Jaime's hand resting on your back.  
"We will protect you, no matter what, and we care for you too much to lose you." Tormund states as you begin to lay back down onto the bed.  
"I love you both too... how can I love two people?" You question, confused.  
"Sometimes love works that way. We don't expect or want you to choose. As long as we can both have you in our lives, we're happy." Jaime adds.  
Just as you lay back down to fall Adler, you can feel two kisses being placed on your forehead.  
"Now get some rest, we'll be right beside you." Tormund adds as you fall into the best sleep you've had, between the loves of your life.


	15. The Deal - Jaime/Brienne

"You never did give me a direct answer on whether you wanted me to make you feel like a woman." You tease with a devilish grin as you turn around to look the giant woman in the eyes.  
She's dreading this conversation. She must be very uncomfortable around the subject of sex as are all other maidens; yet, something seems to embarrass her even more about it. Her cheeks turn a deep crimson, and her eyes look towards the ground as if searching for treasure beneath the scattered leaves. She's avoiding this with the greatest effort. That only turns you on more. She's not exactly attractive, not in the way you see other women as beautiful, but something in her spirit makes you want to take her for your own. She has something that makes you feel young again, new again. If she weren't your captor you would have her on the ground right now, pounding hard into that beautiful-  
"I told you, Kingslayer. Not interested." She nonchalantly mutters, waking you from your daydreams. She's trying to keep up her concentration and not lose her focus as she tugs your rope.  
"Why? Am I not handsome enough for you? Well, that obviously is not it considering the comparison..." you add as you motion once again to her domineering frame. She does nothing but walk faster. "Is it that I'm not strong enough? Well, with my hands tied I probably could still be able to beat you in a fair fight, rushing you quickly while you're too busy analyzing like a bumbling idiot. I'd take you to the ground, softly of course because you're a woman. You are a woman right?" You again tease as she once again tugs the rope and grunts as you slightly stumble. She's getting angry.  
Good.  
"I guess that moody moan confirms it. Well, like I was saying, I'd gently move you to the ground and pin your arms over your head. You think you'd be able to fight, but you don't know my strength, wench. Then of course I would begin cutting off that awful armor, if you can even call it armor. A simple dinner fork could pierce through and injure you. Anyways, I'd take those straps off so you're left in nothing but those baggy, thin smallclothes. I'd rip the buttons off with my teeth one by one-"  
Suddenly Brienne yanks your rope to face her.  
"That's enough, kingslayer." She seethes angrily, spotting the words spitefully between gritted teeth.  
You feign your innocent smile and voice as you continue.  
"But wait, I haven't even gotten to the best part. Where was I? Buttons. Ripping them off. Gnawing hard and rough to where you start to moan, and you'd begin to feel a rush of wetness to your-"  
Suddenly you are pushed roughly to the ground, your hands barely bracing your fall in time as you slump in the dirt. You can feel your bind slip over your right hand completely and you let it free. One more hand to go. Just distract her. You turn your body to look up into her face. She's practically burning from anger.  
"I said enough." She emphasizes the last word as you begin to get back up.  
"How about this. I'll stop if you beat me in a wrestling match. If I beat you, I get to live of the fantasy. Deal?" You sarcastically mutter as you work on the other hand.  
"Do you take me for an idiot? A whore? I'm not giving you anything." She angrily states as she leans powerfully over you.  
"No, I took you for a fighter. And you seem to think you would easily lose, or else you would challenge me. But I guess since you think I'd win, I can continue speaking." You caution as you slip your hand out, ready to challenge her, pin her, tie her up, and then escape.  
"For the last time, kingslayer, you will not speak about it." She barks as she turns her back to you, ready to pull the rope.  
"You're right. I won't speak about it. I'll show you!" You shout as you grab the rope and slam forcefully into her back, effectively tackling her to the ground as she releases a painful grunt. She hits the dirt with a low growl and tries to kick you off; however, you flip her over to her back and move your legs to pin her midsection as well as her arms down. She releases an animalistic noise as she realizes the situation she is now stuck in. You look down upon her with a look of fake innocence.  
"Now, wench, if you had just listened to my stories like a good girl then we wouldn't be here would we?" You chirp as you motion to your new positions, growing accustomed to her attempts at shifting your weight and taking control.  
"Now, you can't tell me that you didn't want those fantasies too." You whisper into her ear, and you now notice her trembling, but not from fear. It's something else you've rarely seen before.   
Desire.  
"You're delusional, kingslayer." She tries to apathetically state, but you can see the look in her eyes, and she knows you see right through it.  
"Oh, stop it with that. We're beyond that. I've seen the way you look at me. I know you feel what I feel right now." You whisper to her as you begin to undo her straps, her body slightly trembling beneath you.  
"What... what do you m-"  
"Come on, Brienne, surely you can feel what you do to me?" You urge her on as you rub your blatantly obvious hard cock against her thigh.  
She must have never even been this close to a man before. Surely she knows what an erection is? Surely her septa at least told her that?  
She looks hopelessly confused until you give a deep thrust of your hips against her inner thigh, slightly nudging that part of her body that would give unbelievable pleasure. As you do this motion, she opens her eyes wide and releases a moan of pleasure.  
Her breeches are thick, so she had to hardly feel any of you at all, but the smallest bit is already bringing her to moans. Has she even touched herself before? Surely not, she would not react like this if she did.  
"Brienne... have you ever..." you manage to mutter before she interrupts.  
"I told you, I'm a mai- oh! A maid!" She gasps as you continue grinding into that spot.  
"But have you ever touched..." you look to her eyes as she widely realizes what you're trying to get at.  
She looks down again in embarrassment with more crimson deepening her cheeks as she nods her head no.  
Seven hells.   
It seems impossible, but the thought of you touching her, being the first to make her feel good there, makes you even harder.  
"Jaime... I've n- never done-"  
"Did you just call me Jaime?" You look to her in all seriousness. You've only been kingslayer for months. This is the first time anyone has had the decency to call you by something other than a nasty name.  
She looks to you frozen in your state, completely caught. Her eyes wide and terrified, you see those soft looking lips trying to form words to respond but you just can't let them.  
You capture them in a kiss, hungry, needy, and desperate. She does not move at first and it is then that you realize she had never been kissed before. She stays still for a few moments before you guide her, helping her adjust to the awkwardness as you teach her, moving in sync with each other. Soon you're gasping for air, and before you know it, you back together, tongues now fighting for control as you begin grinding into her again. As you press once again against the spot she opens her lips and moans deeply in your mouth, panting with pleasure. You see her eyes close in pleasure as her neck stretches backwards, exposing her long neck all to yourself to plant kisses on. You begin applying pressure with your tongue on her neck as your hands sneak down low, unbuttoning her breeches as you slips your hand inside.  
You are greeted by warm skin, and you trace her hipbones before you go lower, reaching the thatch of hair above that spot, and you caress the soft bundle there, eliciting a series of high pitched moans. As soon as your fingers are positioned lower towards her lips and she feels the first touch of you, her hips instinctively buck as she feels unbelievable pleasure.  
You look away from your hand to look at her face, captured in pure bliss, Brad thrown back, back arched, face scrunched, and mouth wide open. She looks like a goddess, and you haven't even started touching her yet.  
You begin to caress her lips as your thumb begins to play with that bundle of nerves, immediately sending a jolt through her body as she jumps beneath you, shouting your name.  
You give her forehead a kiss and bring your lips to hers as you begin your movements with your hand once more. This time, you circle her entrance, gathering the fluid there and spreading it over her softness as she moans into your mouth.  
"Brienne..." you needily whisper, desperation and lust in your voice, looking for approval to delve inside her.  
She knows what you mean, and shakes her head yes.  
You must go slowly, she'll be so tight.  
Your circling digit soon pushes lightly inside her entrance, meeting a muscular force of tightness that envelops you in warmth.   
Brienne releases a cry and opens her eyes wide. You look to her in concern, but see it is in pleasure.  
You dip that finger deeper, her body fighting and accepting the foreign feeling that brings her pleasure, and it's only moments before you're moving inside her. She's so tight, so wet, but you add another finger easily. She gasps and moans and you thrust your fingers in and out, and you know exactly what will send her flying. Your thumb begins rubbing the sensitive nub again as you continue your work. She immediately jolts and pants faster, and you can feel her getting tighter in response, she's almost there.  
You plant one more hungry kiss on her mouth before she's falling, spasming in pleasure beneath you, tightening those muscles over you as she rides waves of pleasure and cries out your name. You feel yourself release in a flash of white at the same time she does.  
As she comes down from that pleasure, you feel her body collapse, and motive the glistening sweat on her forehead. She looks beautiful. Genuinely beautiful.  
You plant another kiss on her before you hear a shout in the distance, sending you both scrambling to your feet in a rush, faces still flushed. You look to each other in concern.  
"Well, wench, we must continue this agreement when we somehow survive this madness..." you state sarcastically as you hear another commanding shout.  
"IF we survive this." You wink at her, giving her another deep red blush. "Oh come on! After all that you blush still!" You look to her in disbelief.  
"I don't know what you're talking about kingslayer." She adds mockingly with a grin as she ties you once again with the rope.  
You don't even want to escape anymore. For some reason this wench makes living and breathing worthwhile, and you'd like to keep it that way.


	16. Truce - Jaime/Brienne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT HERE SMUT HERE READ ALL ABOUT IT. I think this is how we ALL wanted that bath scene to go amirite ladiezzz.  
> *dabs with feeling*

You rub vigorously at your left arm, trying to get the dirt and grime completely off you as well as the feeling of their hands. It feels like it's been only minutes since Locke's men grabbed aggressively at you, dragging you off forcefully along the ground into the cold darkness of the night. You fully intended to die that night. You would make them have to kill you first before they took you. You'd breathe your last breath knowing full well you had done everything in your power to protect your honor. You were content with that.   
What you did not expect was what happened next. As you kicked and bit at your attackers, they suddenly stopped groping your body and helped you stand once again. They solemnly walked you back to your tree as you looked in shock and horror at Jaime bargaining with Locke. He had saved your life. The kingslayer. Oathbreaker. He had unknowingly sacrificed his hand for your honor.  
You shudder at the thought in the hot, steaming water as you focus back onto your skin. You look to the gentle streams of light entering the otherwise dim lighting of the bathhouse, the candles softly illuminating the hard stone you sit against. You scrub harder and faster, reddening the soft skin in aggravation. The only sound in the tranquil space is the soft scratching of your skin against the bristles of the small brush and the gentle splashing of the water.  
"Not so hard, you'll scrub the skin off." You hear a familiar voice nonchalantly echo in the open chambers of the bath.  
You jump at the sudden realization and presence of him. Jaime. Your neck snaps the look at him as he enters the room with a young looking servant.  
Why is he here? The last thing you need is him mocking you as you bathe, the once serene and quiet place you have cannot be ruined by him. Plus, you're fully naked, he cannot stay with you here, it's... its...  
"What are you doing here?" You sullenly question him, attempting to intimidate and interrogate him.  
"Need a bath," he nonchalantly states with an exhausted sigh as slowly steps out of his boots, "help me out of these rags." Jaime turns to have the servant assist him in taking off his clothes. You look at him with a curious look and then turn away to scrub your skin once again as you hear the gentle ruffling of clothes. You look down shyly at your body until you hear him speak to the servant.  
"Now get out." He roughly commands the servant as he shirtlessly stands to look towards the baths. As the boy turns and walks out, Jaime begins to unlace his breeches. You respectfully turn away with a blush as you watch him begin to slide his breeches off. Focusing on your scrubbing, you refuse to look at his naked body. You look only at your body, that is, until you see him approaching your bath area out of your peripheral vision. You finally look up as he is heading towards you.  
"There's another tub!" You fearfully yell to him as you scramble to get as close to the corner and as far away from him as you can. The water splashes around you as you flail desperately to pull yourself away.  
"This one suits me fine." He casually mutters as he begins to step into the water. It is then that you notice how strong yet weak this man is. He is obviously very muscular, you can tell by the definition and strength he has as he carries himself; yet, you can see the damage that weeks of being chained up has done to cause him to be malnourished and weaker than before. You notice him looking directly at you and you bring your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them, trying to become as small and covered as possible, looking down only at your arms barely above the water. As much as you seem to care about your dignity, Jaime does quite the opposite. He cares not to cover himself at all.  
Once he completely immerses himself in the steaming water, he holds up his injured limb above the water.  
"Don't worry, I'm not interested." He grumbles as he releases a sigh of relief for the most comfort he's had in months. You give him a scathing look as he continues. "If I faint, pull me out. I don't intend to be the first Lannister to die in a bathtub." He painfully grunts as he struggles to hold his arm above water.  
"Why should I care how you die?" You angrily seethe the words while glaring at him. The air turns serious and you look back at your hands as he speaks.  
"You swore a solemn vow, remember? You are supposed to get me to King's Landing in one piece. Not going so well, is it?" He mockingly chimes as he motions to his severed limb as you look to him with a look that could kill. You feel like you could explode with anger. Your face reddens with your upset state and you try to hold back from hitting him. "No wonder Renly died with you guarding him."  
You furiously jump to your feet and angrily swing your arms forward as you look him in the eyes with a look of pure hatred. The water splashes from your aggressive movements and pushing off the wall. You stand there with as much courage as you can muster, unmoving, strong. You don't have time to register the embarrassment or shyness yet as you hover before him threateningly.   
He must have been taken off guard, as his eyes are wide when he scans your face, processing your bold move. He then lowers his gaze to your breasts, small rivulets of water cascading down your raised nipples and forming small drops on the hardened tips before falling into the bath with a little drip sound. He looks then to your most secret part. The small thatch of straw colored hair above it collecting a decent amount of water as it dribbles down your inner thighs. All your life it had been a source of mockery; crude bets on who would see it first or take you caused you to despise it. He looks to it with a look of... appreciation. Suddenly you have a sensation you've rarely felt before. The water cascading down your sensitive thighs and sex feel tickling and heightened. There is a small tingle in your abdomen from the way his eyes look at you like a prized possession. He never looked at you as a woman before, but you've seen this look on the faces of men when a beautiful woman walks past. The yearning.   
Finally, he looks back to the water in a state of solemn regret.  
You refuse to say anything. It is completely quiet, except for the calming waves of the water and the dripping of water from your naked body.   
"That was unworthy. Forgive me. You protected me better than most..." he meekly murmurs as he continues looking directly at the water.  
"Don't you mock me." You quietly state, staring him down still as you shake your head.  
"I'm apologizing." He quickly adds as he raises his head up to look into your eyes. "I'm sick of fighting. Let's call a truce."  
"You need trust to have a truce." You harshly whisper as you hold his eye contact.  
"I trust you." He mumbles confidently.  
His words take you off guard. You slightly furrow your eyebrows in surprise and decide to agree. It is then you become aware that you are still in fact naked and standing before him. You woefully sit back down with reddened cheeks as you shyly take your place and try to shrink back into the wall of the tub.  
"You're surprised I trust you, aren't you?" He murmurs confidently with a smile as you turn your head away.  
You merely nod in agreement.  
"You have a good heart, Brienne. You don't want money or fame or anything. You want to do your duty and honor those that you swear yourself to. A true knight. A good person. We don't have too many of them left anymore." He calmly explains as he looks into your eyes.  
That feeling in your stomach comes back again as you feel your lower parts throbbing in need. His words are like aphrodisiac, melting away your fear and anger while turning it to affection and empathy.  
"I think you are a good person too, Jaime." You state as you look into his eyes.  
His eyes change as you recognize his name and not the harsh slur people threw at him for years.  
"I... care about you, Brienne." He nervously states.  
"I... " as you begin to try to form words, you notice his disposition shift as he begins to approach you in the tub. He carefully wades over to where you are curled up and stands before you, lower half still concealed in the water as he hunches slightly to hide himself.  
"Don't tell me you don't feel this too?" He calmly asks as you sit stunned.  
"I... I don't know what you..." you try to hide your feelings but you can feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment from your truth being revealed.  
"I know the truth, Brienne. I've felt it too." He looks to you with concern and care.  
Your first reaction is to think he is mocking you; he would get you to tell the truth and then pretend to care only to take his words away and make you look like a fool.   
"Don't... make a joke... don't play with me." You emotionally whisper as your eyes brim with tears that you refuse to let fall.  
"I would never... Brienne. I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I care about you." He desperately states to try to make you explain.  
"I... don't believe you." You whisper sadly as you look to him with tears.  
"If you don't believe me then I'll show you." He adds as he moves closer to you.  
You instinctively flinch and try to shrug away, but he grabs your arm and brings it to where his legs meet. Your palm rests on his hard cock, the stiff velvety feel of himself beneath you sending a shiver down your spine and a jolt of electricity to your already throbbing sex. You gasp at the thought of him taking you with it.  
"If I didn't think you were beautiful, this wouldn't be bugging me every time I am with you." He chimes.  
You immediately look into his eyes with surprise as you curiously strike the length of it, eliciting a moan of pleasure from his lips.  
"Brienne..." He murmurs deeply as he closes his eyes.  
You immediately draw your hand back as you register that he wants you. You.  
"Brienne." He caresses your cheek with his good hand as he looks deeply into your eyes. "Tell me if you want me to stop."  
He leans his face close to yours to where only inches separate you. He looks into your eyes before shutting them and leaning slightly as he locks his lips on yours. You are stunned as you at first just sit wide eyed, your lips paralyzed. He moves his lips gracefully on yours, doing most of the work, but you soon find a rhythm and join. It's like dancing, both of you taking turns leading as tongues are added, sweeping over each other's mouths and fighting for control.   
He soon adds his hand to caress your hair, gently grabbing and releasing the short locks and you do the same.   
You can tell he is frustrated with the nub at the end of his right wrist, and he releases an angry groan as the hand that would be doing what the first one does is no more. You softly stop your session to grab his right hand between your fingers and bring it up to your lips, gently kissing the small bandage covering the fresh wound. You look up to see him completely stunned, not thinking that you cared to make him feel better. He immediately sports a thankful grin and envelops you now, bodies coming together as you run your fingers through his hair. There is the new sensation of his rough chest hair rubbing against your sensitive nipples, and you release a gasp and moan at the feeling.   
You can feel him smiling in the kiss as he wraps his arms around you and gently squeezes your behind, gripping the flesh possessively with a groan of satisfaction. You can feel his left hand sneaking to the front of you, still low.  
You gasp as you see him approaching his target. His hand stops right at the thick patch of hair and he softly runs his fingers through the coarse thicket. You gasp as you feel his fingers trail lower, lower.  
When he first touches you there, your knees buckle, and he catches you with a soft laugh as you close your eyes in pleasure. The throbbing, somewhat painful feeling was relieved instantly at his touch, and you melted into the feeling. He once again brings his hand back into position as he rubs and massages every place perfectly. As he reaches that bundle of nerves, a flash of white appears to cross your vision and you almost scream your feeling of bliss. You moan into him as he circles your entrance. It's an odd feeling of needing to be filled and you suddenly become aware of the emptiness you feel without him there.  
You release a loud moan as a finger finally enters you, the odd feeling of tightness but not discomfort surging through your body as you try to take in everything. He whispers your name as he delves deeper and moves, eventually adding more fingers as you're so slick.  
You can feel an odd tightness in your stomach, and he withdraws his hand to look you deeply in the eyes, your body in full surrender to his touch.  
"Brienne, do you trust me?" He whispers gently to you.  
You know what he means and you want it too.  
"I trust you, Jaime." You seductively state as you look into his eyes with nothing but love.  
He kisses you lovingly on the forehead and then takes you close to him.  
"I don't want to hurt you, but it won't last more than a second." He apologetically murmurs as he takes hold of his member and aligns it with you. He's holding you to where you're straddling him, arms wrapped around his neck as he supports your lower half.  
You nod in knowing and he looks to you one last time.   
"Are you ready?" He asks, voice full of concern but excitement.  
"Yes, I've been ready for a long time." You add with a smile that he easily returns.  
You hold onto him as he slightly drops your weight onto him.  
You immediately feel a small reading of muscle and you release a cry, tears forming from the sharp pain. Soon, your body accommodates and you envelop him entirely, stretching to feel and hold all of him.  
Jaime immediately stops and recognizes your pain, holding you close to him.  
"Brienne? Are you alright?" He fearfully asks.  
You release a small laugh as you feel the same of feeling of newness and discomfort turn to pleasure.  
"I'm fine." You soothe him, as he takes his bandaged wrist and wipes the small tears from your cheeks. The sweet gesture is all the motivation you need to continue.  
You buck your hips upward to meet his thrust, creating an entirely new feeling of pleasure as he releases small grunts. Your nails dig into his back as you ride, your whole body in tune to his.   
You can feel the tightness in your stomach forming again as you call each others' names.  
"Jaime... Jaime... I... oh gods!" You can't even complete your sentence before the flash of lightning crosses your vision once more, and your body tenses in a very pleasurable way. It feels like every cell in your body is whole and acting together. You feel his hand sneak low once again as he caresses that same bundle of nerves that sent you nearly falling earlier.  
You feel the tightness spread across your body and suddenly you are hit with a flurry of pleasure, your body tightening around him as you feel yourself come undone wrapped around him. You call out his name desperately and clutch him to you as you feel your spamming body take control.  
He calls your name as he joins you, and you feel a warmth in your body as he unravels, closing his eyes in complete pleasure.  
When you both come down from that high, you are wrapped in each other's arms, sweat glistening on your bodies with a flush of heat on your faces. You're both panting with pleasure as he sits down, still holding you in a straddle on top of him as he rests and catches his breath.  
"I'd say that qualifies as a truce." He confidently chimes in, and you gently swat him on the chest as he fakes being injured.  
"Ow! I thought we had a truce!" He feigns innocence as you place a gentle kiss on his lips once more.  
"I meant what I said, Jaime. About trusting you." You calmly tell him as he brings his left hand up to move damp strands of hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear.  
"And I meant everything I said, Brienne."  
You have a feeling that the journey now, wherever it might take you, will be much better. A weight has been lifted, and you sigh with relief. You collapse on top of him, gently nuzzling your face into his neck as he rubs small circles on your back.  
You fall asleep in the arms of the man you love.


	17. “Jaime” - Jaime/Brienne

You trudge slowly through the thick snow, often stumbling and falling into the frozen cotton. As you exhale deeply from exhaustion, you can see your breath dancing as mist, creating a beautiful smoky effect. You look back to see the deep wound in your leg continuing to gush, leaving you lightheaded from the significant blood loss. You can feel your armor weighing you down and becoming cold with the severe frost. Although your body endures and sifts through so much, your mind is stuck to one thing. Jaime.  
You’ll never tell him how you truly feel. If you’re lucky, he might know in his heart, but you’ve rarely been blessed in this journey. Your comrades were slaughtered, leaving you the sole survivor. You weren’t close to them, they were merely soldiers doing a typical watch run with you, a stroll past the gates and near the river to ensure safety for Winterfell’s tenants. You were attacked. White walkers. There were so many. Oathkeeper is the sole reason you’re still crawling through the snow. It cut through their frozen flesh like a hot knife with butter, leaving yourself as the only witness to the carnage.  
You look down once more to your leg, blood running consistently and aggressively. You press your cold, trembling hand to the wound to help stop it, and it simply runs in rivulets through the gaps in between your fingers. You gasp as you begin to feel an odd warm sensation flowing through you.  
That shouldn’t be. You’re freezing. You had heard of soldiers saying this as their last but of comfort came to them as they drifted into death’s grip. You need help now.  
You grunt painfully as you force yourself to your feet, beginning to run now. Your legs feel heavier than before as you kick your way along, searching for the gates. They should be relatively close.  
You fall once more, this time landing on your injured thigh, sending a sharp, throbbing pain through your body. You scream like a wounded hound, your voice echoing through the open air.  
Jaime. Make it for Jaime.  
You look down once more to the ground and see maroon patches of wet snow beneath you as you force yourself up once again. You apply pressure to your thigh as you run, beginning to see the top of brown gates in the distance. Podrick should be in the watch tower, gods help him find me if you fall once more, you won’t be able to get up again.   
You approach closer and you begin waving your arm desperately to get the attention of someone. The ground is becoming uneven, or maybe it just feels that way. You look up to see the brown gates before you swirling every which way. You’re very dizzy, your mind stuck in a fog as you stumble your way towards the gates. You’re a few feet away from them when your leg gives out completely, sending you collapsing to the snow.  
“My lady?!?” You hear a familiar voice above you full of concern. Your squire is looking down upon you in confusion and terror as he calls to you once more.  
You try to answer him, but can only find the strength to muster one word.  
“Jaime.” You whisper desperately, as if saying the word is the only thing keeping you from slipping away from life.  
You hear a fish of footsteps and an array of commands. The doors are quickly pushed open and you feel your hair ruffle and your face is cooled by a sudden breeze from the swift movement. More footsteps crunch in the snow as you are shaken from your daze.  
“Beauty, you’re going to be alri- fuck! What happened to ya?” You can hear Tormund’s raspy voice as his eyes find your injured leg.  
He looks to you with his wide, frenzied eyes and mouth agape.  
“My lady, are you alright?” Pod manages to stutter.  
You look towards the blue sky as you whisper, “Jaime,” once more into the breeze. Your breath turns to fog as you can hear shouting from the men around you. You can’t make out the words they’re saying, but it is only a matter of time until you hear a pair of shoes sprinting towards you with soft crunches.  
“Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?” The familiar man calls out to the men, desperation evident. His voice is music to your ears, a song you could play in your head forever without growing tired of it.  
“Jaime?” You question, your once familiar chant now becoming anxious as you know they called for him to come quickly to you.  
A face appears in your field of vision, and you see the golden hair flash before you as you grin.  
You touch your trembling hand to his face and caress his cheek once with a grin.  
“Jaime...” You affectionately coo.  
“The wench is delirious from the cold. We need to get her inside.” He commands as he looks to you with a look you have not encountered.  
You are suddenly lifted into the air and are being rushed somewhere before you can even process what is happening. Your head bobs up and down from the motion of running, and you look over your right shoulder to see Jaime looking at you intensely, a terrified look chiseled in his features.  
“Jaime...” you look to him sadly as he lifts his feet faster.  
“Hold on, Brienne. Hold on.” He pleads.  
“Jaime... I...” You try to form the words before your exhausted body puts a stop to it, “I lo-“ you manage before specs of black flurry in your vision, and you can feel an unfamiliar warmth in your muscles.  
“I know, Brienne! I do too. Stay with me!” Is the last thing you hear before your eyes drift shut and you shut down.

*

You awaken abruptly to a clanging of dishes and jump from your position. As you surge upwards you can feel a heaviness there, and open your eyes to see layers of blankets upon your naked form.  
You’re naked? Where are your clothes? They must have taken them off to warm you. Does that mean he saw-  
Another crashing sound calls your attention to the young boy, trying to stop another falling glass from a tray. You smile as you realize who it is. Pod.   
Suddenly another voice appears.  
“Podrick! She’s sleeping! Can’t you-“   
The sound cuts off as the figure looks to you.  
His emerald eyes look upon your form with a grin as he sits up from his chair immediately.  
“I’m- im sorry ser! I-“ pod turns to see you as well.  
“Pod, you’re alright, you may leave now.” You assure him with a warm smile as he returns it gratefully and heads out the door, shutting it carefully.  
There is a comfortable silence and a warm vibe as he approaches you slowly.  
“You know, wench, you were practically dead when we brought you here... we had toward you up. Of course, the maester suggested skin to skin contact, and I happily obliged.” He finishes with a cocky grin.  
Your cheeks turn a deep crimson as you realize what he says.  
“Surely, you... you didn’t-“ you stutter embarrassingly as you trip over your words like hurdles as he bursts into laughter.  
“Only a joke, wench. Gods, we didn’t have to do that, but you were almost dead. You had a nasty cut on your thigh. Almost couldn’t save you...” He looks to you with a hurt expression.  
“Oh, how would you have managed without your wench!” You cautiously joke with a small smile, hiding your true feelings in case he doesn’t share them.  
A silence fills the room once again as sadness falls upon his face.  
“Do you know what you said to me? Do you remember?” He seriously inquires.  
“I’m sure I said many things. You said it yourself that I was in a state of delirium.” You carefully answer, keeping an even expression.  
“Brienne, do you remember? I do. You said you loved me...” his eyes look to you emotionally as tears form in yours.  
“Yes... I remember.”  
“Did you mean it?”   
You look to him with furrowed eyebrows and a worried expression as you shift your head downwards to look away.  
“Yes.” You whisper softly, refusing to look into his eyes. He can’t truly love you back. Not truly. He was probably trying to give you hope to keep you alive. He-  
Your thoughts are interrupted as you feel something warm and soft pressing against your forehead. You look up to see his scruffy chin leaning against the tip of your nose as he kisses you chastely. You begin to stutter as you speak.  
“Jaime, do you love m-“   
You are once again cut off as his lips then attach yours, a hungry, yet relatively tame kiss. You can feel his eyelashes flutter across the tops of your cheeks and you feel yourself smiling into the kiss.  
He releases your lips as he leans back to look at you.  
“Does that answer your question?” He fakes an innocent loon as you bring your hand once more to his face and smile.  
You hear a door swinging open and a surprised “oh” as you turn to see Jon Snow standing in the doorway.  
“I, uh, came to check on you... and uh... see if you were awake yet.” He shyly admits as he looks at the pair before him.  
“Jaime, Sansa requests your presence at a meeting... perhaps we should let Brienne continue her resting.” He gives a small smile to the two of you as he closes the door, leaving you two alone again.  
“Well, you’re a wanted man today.” You grin as you caress his cheek softly once more, feeling the stubble against your hand.  
“You’re right, but there’s only one thing that wants me that I care about now.” He adds as he kisses your forehead once more and looks into your eyes. “I’ll be back with you once the meeting ends. Will you wait for me?”  
You sigh deeply and form a sarcastic grin. “I don’t know, I have so many things to do today.” You motion to your injured leg with a smile as he looks to you once more.  
“I love you, Brienne.”  
“I love you, Jaime.”   
As he slips out the door your heart flutters. You don’t know how it happened, or why the gods decided to bless you with this gift you once thought impossible, but you’re elated to feel what you never thought you would.


	18. Surgery BITCHEZ

Hey sister friends! I just had surgery and I’m gonna be chillin for a while now so if u have any suggestions for fanfics HMU! I’ll mention ya and write whatever plotline/characters involved!  
I feel like trash, but I’m a trash can, not a trash cannot :D


	19. Carry On -Sandor/You

The war is upon you now. In your life. Your home. Your people dying out there. Of course it’s not the main war, just one of the many battles that will lead to it. The clashing of metal and high pitched screams of dying men reach your ears, taunting you. The same fate awaits you. Awaits. You hate that word. Await. It makes it sound like you’re just patiently sitting for death to reach you.  
You were told to wait here by Sandor.  
He means so much to you, but you should be with him.  
You should be there. You take one look out the window to see hords of white walkers disintegrating as they come into contact with dragon glass. The screech of a dragon echoes in the distance as you see fire catch a crowd of the dead men.  
You must be there.  
You quickly grab your bag of dragon glass tipped arrows along with your fur. The onyx tipped weapon gleams in the fire-lit view, and you break into a sprint to line outside. You have about fifty arrows, Jon knew how good of a shot you are, and wanted you on front lines; however, Sandor had different ideas.

-

“Stay here!” He yelled earlier, voice rising in anger and dominance as he turns his back to you.  
“No I’m going with you!” You pleaded, grabbing on to his fur vest as he whipped around to face you.  
“No! Stay here or I’ll kill you when I come back!”   
You are momentarily stunned which allows the soft fur to slip from your fingers.  
“And what if you don’t come back?!?” You angrily scream as you hold him close to you.  
“I’m coming back, ya stubborn wench.” He expertly soothes as he places a kiss on your forehead before turning around to leave. He quickly shut the door to avoid more of your pleading- after all, he had a job to do.

But so do you.

-

You open the wooden door of the tower to feel a rush of freezing wind bite your exposed cheeks. You close your eyes quickly as they water, adjusting to the new weather.  
You feel the initial iciness of their presence, and run to the back of the lines as you grab your bow and nock an arrow into place. Your boots make a crunch sound as they collide with the frozen earth. You sprint upwards until you can see remnants of bones and ice from fallen dead soldiers. As the snow begins to show dark red patches, you know you’ve found a perfect place to locate a target.  
You look into the distance and see one of the leaders of the dead army. He is sitting atop a white horse, horrifically donning a broken skull of a face along with patches of bone showing on his body.   
You need to get closer if you want a better shot.   
Just as you grab your quiver and begin to run forward, you see podrick slash a white walker with his sword, effectively killing it. Bronn is right behind him, obviously helping to keep him alive.  
“Pod! Bronn!” You call out, grabbing their attention as they look to you in confusion.  
“What are you doing here?” Podrick yells, concerned as he runs to grab your shoulders and shake them aggressively.  
Bronn soon follows and tries to bring you to your senses.  
“You can’t be here! The Hound will k-“   
“No time to explain. Cover me! I need to get closer!” You cry out as you run forward.  
They both break out running to follow.  
“Closer to where?” Bronn asks curiously, panting beside you. He quickly draws his sword and kills a white walker that ran from the right as you continue running full speed towards the line.  
You can begin to see the outlines of three very tall figures in the distance, and you immediately know they are Tormund, Brienne, and Sandor.  
You look over to Bronn and nod upwards to the leader fighting the front line.  
“Closer to him.” You exhale quickly, your breath now a mist. By now the figures are identifiable individually, and you can see they are is some trouble.  
You notice a white walker beginning to sneak up on Tormund and you immediately load an arrow. You release it to watch it hit its target as the dead disintegrates, releasing a high pitched wail as it crumples. The arrow sits only a few yards from you now.  
As you run and lean down to retrieve it, you feel a heavy weight knock you down as you hear a screech above you. You turn your face to see a skeleton, clawing at your skin. It has no weapon, but you can feel your skin tearing open and the blood running down your arms, chest, and neck. It violently opens and closes its mouth with high pitched noises, and you release a terrified yell.   
You can hear your name being yelled, riddled with confusion in the distance, but you have little time to think about that as you grab the arrow lying on the ground and jab it into the heart of it. It immediately crumbles and you roll to your side, blood running aggressively around you as you grab intuitively at your neck. There is a gaping wound, but no arteries have been severed.  
You’re alive. You’re fine.  
You feel Podrick and Bronn approach you concerned before you can even register what has happened.   
“I’m ok! I’m ok! Sorry, I went too far ahead!” You manage to get out before being helped back up. You begin stumbling in the snow until you trip and fall once again into the the icy fluff.  
You feel a pair of hands grab you and assume it’s either podrick or Bronn.  
“I’m ok! I told you! Just get me closer I can do it!” You shout, looking at the ground to gather your bearings before you look up.  
What you see is not what you expected.  
Sandor stands above you, arms protectively grabbing you, blood splattered all over his face making him nearly unrecognizable. You feel yourself being lifted into the air by your fur, and you’re off the ground before you can even blink. He’s holding you just above ground, the fur meanly rubbing your wound causing it to bleed.   
“What the fuck are you doing here?!? I told you to stay back?” He angrily yells.  
You desperately hit his hand with all your fury, telling him to let you down and he does. Your hands immediately grab your throbbing neck, where the red liquid is spewing. He automatically notices your futile attempts to hide your injury, and your blood laced fingers claw desperately to stop the rush of liquid.  
“What the fuck did you do?” He barks, hair flying every which way as he looks at you with anger.  
“White walker. Wanted to help.” You gently speak as you hold your throat tight.  
“You need to get back. You don’t k-“  
“Need to help. I can kill him.” You cry out.  
“Kill who?”   
Your bloodied hand points to the leader on horseback and he sighs to himself.  
You bring yourself to your feet as you look over to see the leader distracted.  
“Sandor, I can do this.” You confidently state as you look into his eyes.  
He looks to the leader as he swallows a lump in his throat, before sighing deeply.  
“I thought the white walkers were going to kill me...” he begins sadly.  
“You’re alright though! We’re alright!” You explain happily.  
“But I think you’re going to finish me off.” He smirks with a hint of sarcasm as you gently hit his shoulder.  
“Come on, I need to get him.” You look to him with genuine hope and faith in yourself; as he recognizes it, you can see him visibly exhale as he shakes his head, eyes cast downward.   
“You better fucking aim it right.” He motions for you to follow him as he begins cutting down the line of dead men for you.  
You follow closely as you hear the squealing of the white walkers in whatever agony they can feel. Your breath hitches as you hear Sandor release a grunt of pain. You look to see his shoulder bleeding as he bites his bottom lip to keep from crying out.   
As you look to see the night leader, you notice he is only a few hundred feet away: perfect.  
You try to find the perfect aim from behind Sandor, and see nothing except obstacles.  
You must somehow get better aim.  
Before you can process what you’re doing, you’re climbing into his back, and reaching to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his neck, and sit down so that you can see exactly what he can see.  
“The fuck are you doing?!?” He loudly shouts to try to dissuade you from what you are going to do.  
You struggle to keep your balance as you can feel him fighting the dead. Every swing and counter will affect your shot, so you must use expert care.  
You bring your bow behind your back as you nock an arrow into place. You squint your eye desperately, trying to get the most accurate shot possible. You inhale deeply as you align the arrow with his heart, string pulled far back to lodge it deeply.   
“Just hold... still.” You whisper to yourself more than Sandor, trying to drown out everything around you. No screaming, no cries, nothing.  
Before you know it, a flash of silver crosses your line of sight and you can feel a sharp pain on your cheek. A rush of liquid caresses your left cheekbone, and you immediately loosen the grip on your weapon for your hand to assess your face. Lifting back your palm, you see a puddle of maroon stickiness in your hand. It drips from your fingertips down below onto Sandor, who is momentarily not fighting anything. He flinched from the sudden contact and places his own hand to his face, looking confused at the droplets of blood; however, he soon looks up at you in a look of fear and concern.  
“What ha-“  
Before he can finish his sentence, you feel a stabbing pain in your left shoulder as you feel yourself knocked backwards. The force is strong enough to push you off Sandor’s shoulders, sending you careening backwards with a whimper. You feel yourself held by your legs as rivulets if blood run up your face, now following the odd pattern of being upside down. He quickly lays you down and you notice some of the others have moved to his spot and are holding off walkers for him to assess you.  
“Are you alright? Fuck, I’m going to kill these cunts. I swear to the gods I’m going to fucking kill all of them!” He shouts as he brings his hand to your face.  
You smirk and exhale sharply, trying to focus on his concern, and not the intense pain permeating through your whole body. You look to your shoulder to see a small knife sticking from it. It’s wooden handle is visible along with about an inch of blade.   
It must have been the leader’s guards, the men standing beside him.  
You have to pull it out to continue.   
You bring your right hand over and grit your teeth as you grip the knife tightly in your sweating palms. Releasing a scream, you pull backwards with the knife and free it from your muscles. With a cry of relief and tears running from your face, you grab the knife and put it on your belt.  
“I can use that later...” you state with a pain glazed laugh.  
He looks at you with a sense of amazement and he strokes your hair.  
“Now, I need you to get back up so I can aim again. I was so close before one of those fu-“  
“You really think I’m gonna fucking let you back up there again?”  
“They didn’t get my pulling arm, I’m ok! I need to do this!”  
“You need to go back to th-“  
“I need this, Sandor, please.” You look at him with a desperation he has not seen before, and he knows the severity of your words.  
That’s all it takes.  
He looks into your eyes and sees the same determination that made him fall for you from the start.  
He nods, not liking the idea whatsoever, but he knows you’ll find a way regardless; at least he’ll be included in the plan you have so he has some control over your protection.  
You look to see the leader has moved slightly closer to you.  
Wincing as you climb his back again, he helps hoist you up as you grunt, taking your place. You grab the bow in your left hand, gripping and releasing the handle for a second before bringing it towards you. You once again nick an arrow, but take in everything around you this time. Friends and loved ones are crying out all around you. The screaming of dying men fills your ears and heart with dread. For a soft moment there is only the whistle of the harsh, unrelenting wind in your ears. You feel the blood on your cheek clotting and freezing on your face, and you hear your heart drumming in your chest as you bring the arrow to it. The breeze bites your already bleeding lips, chapped from winter. A single tear falls from your dry eyes.   
You aim directly for the leader’s heart and close your eyes, gathering your concentration. Just as you open them, you release your arrow, sending it flying in the breeze. You can hear your exhale piercing the wind, and look into the eyes of the leader. You must have now just caught his attention, he probably thought you were dead. You are certainly taller than most of the soldiers, but probably less threatening to most of them. His blue eyes catch yours and you smile as you see your arrow soar. He looks at your expression in confusion until he feels the dragonglass enter his heart. He grasps desperately at his chest before turning into ice and breaking into small pieces, disintegrating into the breeze on his horse.  
Suddenly, the army of dead pauses. They hold whatever pose they had once been in, and then disintegrate. Every last one of them completely pulverized and helpless, they float away in the wind.  
Your own men freeze in confusion.  
You look around you to see Tormund looking towards you with an expression you cannot fathom. Brienne is running to check on a winded Podrick, while Bronn looks towards the rest of the men. They are all panting heavily in their armor, looking directly at you.  
You didn’t notice how heavily you breathe until Sandor asks if you are alright. Breaking you from your trance, he gently taps your foot as you immediately grab your shoulder. You didn’t notice the pain until now. You didn’t know how dizzy you felt until now, actually.   
You feel yourself begin to sway as you hear the order to burn the dead. Before Sandor can speak another word, your vision blurs and you feel nothing.

-

You wake to find yourself feeling overwhelmed, not only mentally but physically. You have a large weight on your chest and you feel like you cannot breathe. You release a desperate gasp for air as you fumble for whatever is on you.  
“Whoa there, it’s just blankets!” You hear a familiar voice warm as your erratic heart beat begins to relax at the sound of the voice.  
Sandor enters your field of vision as he gently moves a blankets away from your face. He folds it over as he readjusts your sheets as well.  
“See? They won’t kill ya now will they?” He smirks as he looks to you in affirmation and play.  
“What happened?” You question groggily, rubbing your eyes with your sweaty, balled up fists.  
“Ya fuckin did it. Ya killed the bastard.” He nonchalantly explains with a grin.  
You smile silently to yourself as you think back to the battle. You did it. Although you fired the shot, you know there is more work to do.  
“We still have more to kill.” You apathetically state before he nods his head in agreement.  
“Yeah, more, but less thanks to you almost getting yourself fucking killed.” He replies with a smirk.  
“I would have died if he got past you anyways, I might as well help.” You shrug your shoulders.  
He exhales deeply as he takes a seat on the bed next to you, raising his hand to stroke your hair, small strands sticking to your forehead.  
“I can’t lose you.” He confesses. You look to see sadness in his eyes.  
“And you won’t.” You assure, raising your hand to caress his arm.  
“Where we you go, I go.”  
“I know, that’s why I fucking followed you out there.”  
At this, he releases a hearty laugh and wraps his arm around you protectively.   
This may not be the last battle. You know there will be hard times ahead. Loved ones will be lost, but you know you can carry on with him at your side.


	20. A friend of -Sandor/You

“Come on, ya dumb cunt!”  
Those are the words you hear as you are pulled forward, Meryn Trant leading you. You had heard of his violence before, but being caught in your escape attempt was sure to bring you much more grief to come.  
As the rough voice echoes among the trees, the chain around your neck is violently jerked backwards, sending you flying forwards onto the earth below. Your knees collide with the dirt first, smacking against it as they buckle beneath your dead weight. Your hands attempt to break your fall, palms spread out to catch yourself, but you are too weak to significantly lessen the damage. Lastly, your face lands at an awkward sideways angle, bouncing up along with small patches of dirt. You closed your eyes just in time, but you can feel the mud splashing across your cheek.  
You try to get your bearings but the horse continues trotting, which means the man is pulling you along with the chain gripped in his hand. You desperately bring your hands up to try to hold the chain and help your breathing, but it is in vain. You kick desperately as your grip tightens, your airway closing quickly as you gasp out for air loudly.  
You can hear vague laughing, which continues to grow silent the longer you are being pulled. You scream as your hands grab the chain to hoist yourself closer, and you feel yourself about to go unconscious.  
Suddenly, the horse stops moving.  
You look up to see the man above you, holding your chain in front of you like a toy, teasing you.  
“You going to play fair, bitch?” The man asks aggressively.  
He has black hair peppered with bits of gray, relatively short, along with a mustache and light beard. His dark eyes pierce you, and his large, mean face is enough to haunt you. It’s as if he has no conscience.  
You haven’t answered and he quickly lifts and throws the chain in a whipping motion, the end of it hitting you and sending you back down to the earth.  
You hold the right side of your face with your palm, your cheek red from the slap of metal.  
“Speak, ya stupid cunt!” You hear his menacing voice yell out in front of you as you gather up enough courage to lift your chin up towards him.  
“No.” You angrily spit.  
He walks towards you, agitated.  
He quickly grabs you and throws you into a tree, your chest taking most of the blow as your momentum carries you harshly into the bark, shards of bark cutting your skin like glass. You turn around to see him directly in front of you before your head is sent harshly to the right, the sting of his slap on your cheek. You feel your lip throbbing as a metallic taste fills your mouth. You quickly lift your hand to your mouth and see a pool of red.  
You angrily kick out at him, hitting him square in the stomach.  
His face turns to a state of shock before anger, as if both surprised and astonished at your revenge.  
He suddenly grabs your long hair and yanks it upwards, and you struggle to keep up. He suddenly grabs your neck and holds it tight, choking you. You try to cry out for help, but to no avail. As you feel lightheaded, your body lurches forward as he aggressively throws you. He throws you face forward into a large, low hanging branch from a tree, basically clotheslining you as your head snaps back from the force of hitting it.  
You feel your knees crumple under your body and your head hit the ground inches from your feet, your body awkwardly bent backwards as if folded.  
Before you know it, he is once again above you, grinning evilly. You scream internally as he pulls out a sinister looking knife, kneeling so that your body leans on his thighs. Suddenly, they are shouting as he holds it up, glimmering in the light shining through the trees.  
“Maybe if I cut ya a little bit, you’ll learn to play nice.” He seethes, bringing it to your cheek.  
You gulp as you feel the iciness of the metal against your skin before a shout breaks you all from your trance.  
He looks around in confusion before his eyes settle on something and furrow in aggravation.  
You strain your head to observe what is stopping him to see a tall, large man standing before you all. He holds a large sword, and is decked in full armor. The right side of his face is burnt, but it does little to distract from his handsome features.  
“Get out of here, dog.” Meryn harshly commands before he attempts to bring the knife back to you.  
“Let the fucking little girl go.” The other man practically seethes.  
“Go, or I’ll bring you back to Joffrey. He quite misses your presence. I’m sure I’ll have a great reward with your head on a spike.” He coldly scoffs before returning to you.  
Suddenly you hear a fast crunching sound. You turn to see him approaching the two of you, angry steps stomping loudly.  
You gasp as you can feel the knife at your throat, below your chin. You cry out just as you feel the stab of pain before you feel yourself being knocked over.  
You roll over on the ground once before looking to see that the man jumped on Meryn, and is now wrestling with him violently. He is bashing his head on the ground before a crack can be heard. You look closer to see blood pouring from his nose.  
“Is... is he... dead?” You feel yourself whispering before you can stop yourself.  
“No, but the fucker’s head will hurt when he wakes up, and his nose is broken.” The man calmly explains.  
You look at the man, confused and scared until he starts stomping towards you.  
You trip and fall backwards, the hem of your yellow dress causing problems as you attempt to step backwards. Your long, brown hair hits your face as you fall straight on your rear, landing with a small “oh”.  
“You think I’m gonna hurt you, girl? Hurt you like he would have? Do I scare you?” He aggressively questions, practically peering over you.  
You desperately shake your head as you try to form words.  
“Do I? Do I scare you, little girl?” He snarls.  
“N- no.” You struggle to say as he leans towards you, face only inches from yours.  
“You think I’m a monster?” He loudly berates.  
“Please, stop!” You desperately cry out to him as he leans closer to you. You attempt to push him away but it only encourages him as he puts his hands on both sides of you, trapping you.  
“Please, don’t send me to Joffrey! I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t send me back!” You cry out desperately.  
This seems to stop him from whatever he is thinking.  
“Back? What do you mean?” He asks, voice riddled with confusion.  
“Meryn was bringing me back to kings landing... I...” you drift off as you think back to your plan.  
“You what?”  
“I... was supposed to be entertainment for Joffrey. I’m a contortionist. Joffrey wanted me brought to his room... and I know what happens to the women that go to his room. I’ve heard about the whores, servants, and common people that are his ‘entertainment’. I’m not going to be his target practice...” you finish apathetically and look up to see him looking at you with a poker face.  
“How’d you get out?”  
“A girl helped me. She was my age. If met her a few times. Sansa.”  
At the name he flinched.  
“I tried to convince her to come with me, but she wouldn’t. She hid me in her room until she could distract the guard outside for me to escape.” You finish your story and look up to see his face pondering something.  
“The girl, Sansa, she saved you?” He questions.  
“She saved my life, yes...” you nod your head to him.  
He processes your story before standing up and offering his hand to you, which you accept.  
“Alright, come with me.” He nonchalantly adds before handing you a small cloth handkerchief.  
“Are... are you taking me back to him?” You question, shaking with terror.  
He turns around and notices your demeanor, and he softens.  
“No... the cunt can find another toy to play with.”  
You run towards him and give him a big hug, enveloping as much of him as you can, eyes closed with happiness.  
“Thank you.” You cry into his chest.  
His grip on you tightens as he embraces you as well.  
“I will always help a friend of Sansa.” He calmly whispers to you.


	21. Oh wow another rescue because I have no creativity

You look up peacefully to the sky, watching as the soft, heavy snowflakes gently fall, caressing your skin with frozen strokes. You close your eyes and breathe in the scent, the familiar cool air gently fulling the usual aromas of the air.  
Around you the other women bustle, carrying loaves of bread or spices. You wave to them all as you sway the hem of your black dress around, your black cloak following your smooth motions.  
You begin to lull your head back and forth as the wind begins to blow into your ears, tossing your chocolate locks relentlessly.  
“Hide!”  
Your head snaps to the source of the shouting, and your eyes desperately fly open to analyze the situation. You can see a figure with blonde hair running towards you, slightly limping.  
You watch as your friend, Lena, sprints back inside the gate of the east wing of the castle, a trail of blood following her, scrambling desperately inside before closing and locking the gate.  
“What’s wrong?” You anxiously whisper, furrowing your eyebrows in fear while she pants, catching her breath from the running she had done.  
She falls to the ground and wraps a hand around her thigh. You rip the skirt of your dress to make a temporary tourniquet, wrapping it desperately around her blood drenched leg. As you lean heavily on her leg to apply pressure, you can see the fear as the other girls assess the situation.  
The snow around her is turning pink, but the wound is beginning to stop bleeding as much.  
The women have begun to gather around in a frenzy, whispering amongst themselves and looking to one another in confusion.  
“The Boltons... they don’t want any witnesses...” 

-

You had been working in the Bolton’s Castle ever since your small group of people had been overtaken. You defended the starks, and so he destroyed you.  
Being a relatively pretty girl that could bear children, you were taken alive; although you wish you could say you were lucky, you’d rather be dead than endure what he had in store for you.  
The only glimmer of hope was the friendships you formed with the other women there: women from everywhere. Women like you. Young and old. You were one of the youngest to be taken, being just sixteen at the time.  
Now you’re twenty.

Although Ramsey seemed to be politically savvy, he had a recent slip up. A girl named Isa that was a distant relative of Sansa Stark was murdered by him when she refused to lay with him. He had made it a public execution in the den for the ladies, which is where you remained with the other women. It was gruesome and horrific.  
You couldn’t even imagine the pain, being flayed alive. Just the thought turns your stomach.  
Since Sansa had escaped and realized her distant relative was missing, she put two and two together and was sending forces to the castle.  
There wasn’t supposed to be a fight; however, when Ramsey was nowhere to be seen along with a majority of his men, they decided to lay siege to the castle.  
When the starks questioned where the relative was, the men decided to act ignorant... and that means no witnesses...

-

“Witnesses?” You hear a woman shout in confusion.  
“The stark girl!” Lena answers with a grunt, biting her lip in pain, before you begin to hear a loud commotion in the distance along with a stampede of footsteps.  
The circle of women falls silent as you can hear the men approaching, quickly.  
You look to the women with shock as they all begin to scatter, looking for a place to hide.  
You look up into the sky, raining heavy snow down upon you, catching the edge of your eyelashes.  
“Come on!” You hear Lena shout, gathering the strength to rise while grabbing your frozen hand and pulling desperately. Your feet finally begin to move and you watch as your cloak follows behind. Adrenaline kicks in as the both of you run for anywhere to hide.  
You sprint to the quarters of the stark girl, Isa. Before she was killed, you three were closest together. She showed you how she had broken the wooden floor below a small section near the corner of the room, her bed moved over it along with a small rug. Running quickly by the bed, you duck underneath and pull aggressively on the rug, tugging until it reveals a small hole, about three feet wide and three feet long. You didn’t know how deep it went.  
You look to Lena with a grin.  
Suddenly, you can hear the gates crashing in the distance along with a woman’s screams.  
You don’t have much time.  
“Come on!” You whisper, tugging desperately on her olive green dress sleeve, kneeling by the bed.  
You lie flat and begin crawling, and finally reach the hole after a small struggle. You can hear Lena grunt in pain as she crawls next to you, and your eyes widen at what you see.  
The drop is about seven feet down, but you can see a long tunnel. The tunnel has a dim light in the distance, and is large enough to crawl in. It must be part of a secret passageway around the castle!  
You knew they existed, but you had never found one.  
“Thank you Isa.” You hear lena gleefully whisper, before a loud scream is cut short in the distance.  
Your eyes lock in fear before she pushes you towards the hole, grabbing your arms and lowering you beneath. You land with an echoing thump as you look above to see Lena following you. You watch as you hear the rug being dragged over her head before she adjusts it correctly in position. You are engulfed in darkness with small, microscopic holes seeping tiny beams of patterned lights from the rug. You feel rather than hear Lena land as she awkwardly falls half onto you with a bang.  
You cover her mouth when she is about to release a scream of pain. You can feel the liquid splash on you and you know the sudden movement injured her further.  
You are about to comfort her when another high pitched shriek is cut off with a whimper, and you know the men are close.  
Your eyes widen in fear, and you grab Lena’s arm in the blackness.  
She grips your arm tighter as you can hear the door to the room being knocked down, the thud of the door crashing against the ground causing the tunnel underneath to shake.  
You can hear the men searching and fumbling around the room, knocking drawers and wardrobes over in the process. The constant clashing and banging fills your ears and mind with fear as you desperately grasp each other for comfort.  
The noise finally ceases, and the footsteps from above leave the room in a deafening silence.  
For the longest time you do not move. You do not speak. The only noise you can hear is the thumping of your quick heartbeats mixing with the dying shouts and cries of your friends outside.  
You release silent tears as you sit, helpless, listening for what feels like hours.  
You hear the men grumbling about killing the witnesses before stomping out of the gates east wing.  
“Let’s see if this tunnel leads anywhere.” You hear lena whisper, before you can feel her form slide away in the darkness. She whimpers as she drags herself down the beginning of the tunnel, leg limply trailing behind her. You follow the sound of her scraping along the pathway, the ground slick with new blood. The further you crawl, the brighter the light in the distance appears.  
You can see the hem of your dress collecting and dragging the dust and dirt around, as well as absorbing the sticky maroon liquid flowing from her leg. As you scoot closer to the light you realize there are metal bars vertically guarding the exit, a straight drop of over a hundred feet to the castle grounds.  
“Look, his men are running!” Lena whispers with relief, scooting over to let you lay beside her as she points a finger towards the ground. You watch with amusement as the frightened soldiers mount their horses and begin to speed away into the distance, the approach of the Starks causing their terror.  
Watching the direwolf banner flutter in the wind, you are filled with joy at their approach. What if they save you, take you back to their castle. You and Lena could be free for once. How odd that would be!  
You are awoken from your dreamy state as you can hear an audible cry from Lena as she cradled her leg.  
“Let’s go back outside. They’ll help us.” You whisper, trying your hardest to push your hands forward and project yourself back.  
“Do you think the Bolton’s are coming back?” She anxiously murmurs.  
“Only one way to find out.”  
You pause slightly when you notice your hands are caked in dried blood as well as the complete front of your dress. The small pebbles dig into the palms of your hands, but you bite your lip as you grunt and push yourself back into the darkness.  
Soon enough, your boots hit the harsh stone of the wall, meaning you are back to the start of the tunnel. Watching your head, you bring yourself to your knees and stand up straight, stretching your muscles.  
Lena’s pained sounds echo lightly through the tunnel.  
You feel Lena run into you and do the same, before she reaches out to you.  
“Here, I’m gonna bend down so you can use me as a step to get up higher and back up, then you can pull me up.” She explains as you somehow make your way onto her back.  
Your hands fumble around until they graze the soft material of the rug. Easily you then find the edge of the hole, and grasp it. Pulling yourself up, you fling the rug back and light fills the small space. You squint your eyes from the harsh light, but push yourself into all fours as you reach your hands down to pull Lena up to you. Gripping tight, you use your strength to hoist her up. Her top half makes it over before she squeezes herself over the rest of the way, injured leg bleeding profusely as she lays next to you.  
“Alright, lets go get help.” You anxiously announce as you begin to crawl out from under the bed.  
Sliding your legs free, you once again stand and stretch out, but are distracted. The door to the room is particulate open, and a trail of blood leads outside. While Lena is frozen to the spot, you walk slowly and grip the edge of the door, gently opening it.  
What you see still horrifies you.  
The once serene open space is littered with the bodies of your dead friends.  
The once locked gates are half broken, flung haphazardly to the side with scuffs of weapon marks.  
Blankets of snow surround the bodies and turn the pure frost into a maroon puddle. Some have their hands outstretched while others hold their fatal wounds. Eyes clouded with emptiness, they look to the sky. Snow still is falling heavily, trying to cover the ugliness and tragedy. The harsh wind bites your exposed cheeks and you move your hands to cover your mouth. Your hot breath collects in your palms and spills out of the sides, creating a fog effect.  
You didn’t realize you were crying until you feel your tear freezing to your skin.  
You are the only survivors.  
Turning around, you notice Lena has finally seen the carnage as she falls to her knees both in pain and in mourning. Crying, she caresses the cold cheek of a woman laying peacefully in the snow, no longer in pain. You hurry to sit beside your friend, putting an arm around her.  
“We need to leave, they’ll be alright.” You coo comfortingly, mirroring her distraught features.  
Before you can move a muscle, you hear the thunder of footsteps approaching your wing of the castle.  
“They’re back!” You shriek, terrified. You try to pull Lena with you, attempting to drag her towards the rug again, but she resists, shaking her head.  
You release her hand and kneel in front of her, grabbing her face between your hands. You cup her cheeks and look into her eyes with fear and sadness.  
“Lena we have t-“  
“I can’t, I can’t go. I can’t. I have to stay. I’m gonna did anyways. You go to safety.” She apologetically murmurs, looking at the mangled bodies surrounding her.  
As the snow falls around you and gently hits your face, you understand how she feels. You don’t want to live in fear. If it’s over, it’s over.  
You can hear the stampede of men almost to the gate, and you look into her eyes and nod your head.  
“Wherever you go, I go.” You whisper, tears spilling over onto your cheeks.  
Kneeling, you both wrap your arms around each other, holding on tightly. You notice her grip begins to slacken, and pull back to see her face. It’s pale, nearly white as the snow cascading around you. The only color visible is the stain of a few drops of blood. Her eyes seem to be glassy, but no tears are present. Her body seems to melt in your arms, as if strings holding her upwards had been cut. You gently shake her.  
“Lena, Lena stay awake okay? Lena, stay awake.” You plead.  
Her face suddenly seems to brighten up a bit, a small smile forming in her features. Her eyes are focused on something as her mind seems to be filled with joy.  
You turn to where she stares, a group of men standing a few yards from where you are. They hold the stark sigil as they march in unison towards you.  
“See, Lena, everything is fine. See?” You happily comment to yourself, holding her but putting your sole attention of your saviors in the distance.  
You watch as a large man in all furs dismounts from his horse, walking steadily towards the pair of you. His demeanor switches to a pained one as he takes in the two of you. With fiery red hair on the top of his head and running down his chin and across his face, he looks fierce.  
“I’m sorry about your friend.” He apologetically comforted.  
You look to him with sincerity and confusion.  
“Friends? Well, yes, they’re all my friends, but we both managed to sneak away under t-“  
“No, darlin, the one you’re holdin.” He adds.  
“Lena? She’s alright, but we need to get help quickly! I don’t t-“  
The man comes directly up to you and lays a hand on your shoulder.  
“She’s gone, beauty.” He sympathetically whispers into your ear.  
You get goosebumps as you process what he says.  
She can’t be.  
You look down to see her eyes clouded and looking towards the sky with an emptiness you have never seen before. Blood trickles from her nose as she lays limp in your arms, surrounded by maroon banks of snow. You shake her gently, calling her name as she sways lifelessly in your arms, following your movements without resistance.  
You feel the mans hand rubbing your shoulder and his apologies as you immediately lay Lena down in the snow. You shake her shoulders, her name now a haunting presence as you scream if helplessly into the wind. You can feel the wetness of tears running down your face as you are pulled back, being dragged blindly through the snow.  
You thrash violently, reaching towards her as you are pulled further from her body.  
“No! No! Take me back to her! Take me back! I won’t leave you, Lena! Nooo!” You scream forcefully, your energy draining as you spend the remnants of your spirit calling her name.  
You are suddenly enveloped from behind, your arms being held against you.  
“She’s gone, girl. She’s gone. But you’re not.”  
It seems like hours before you calm down. The same red haired man has been standing by your side this whole time, sympathetically placing his hand on your shoulders.  
“Where- where do I go now? What do I do?” You question, voice quivering.  
“Now you come with us.” He answers.  
You look toward the ground and nod gently.


	22. Wedding: Tormund/ Brienne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Sandor get married, and Brienne has a chance encounter at the reception. I’d say this is my most... BANGIN... chapter yet *dodges thrown fruit*

You sigh unenthusiastically, leaning against the wall, intricately decorated with lavender. You are happy for Sansa of course, it is your honor to serve the Stark girl, but the wedding means she will most likely lessen your duties under her service. With the Hound as a husband, he will do most of the protection and guarding, leaving you with measly duties and errands. The union is lovely, and you can tell that the pair is happy to be together, but you can’t push away the realization that your service to her will be reduced.  
You pick up your cup of wine, the liquid slowly taking your worry away. You don’t drink. Ever. It’s never a good thing to let your guard down; however, Sansa insisted on having you celebrate, which meant participating in the toasts and festivities.   
You pull your eyebrows together from the taste. It isn’t terrible, it’s the best wine of the North, but you never cared for indulgences anyways. The strong scent burns your nostrils, but you gulp I’m down anyways, starting the cycle of self loathing again.  
“Don’t like weddings?”  
You jump at the sudden gruff intrusion of your thoughts. You hear a roaring laugh as you turn to see your red haired admirer. He’s wearing his best furs, and has clearly been indulging as well; the evidence of his drunken state is clear as his wine sloshes from his goblet, held lackadaisically in his lax hand.  
You roll your eyes.  
Not now.  
“I happen to be enjoying this event.” You state, straightening your posture as you try to bring some form of energy into your voice.  
His face scrunches in amplified confusion.  
“Really? Cause to me ya look like you’re havin a terrible fuckin time. Ya look miserable.”   
You shoot him a look of defiance, narrowing your eyes at him in anger.  
You bring your libation to your lips, gently wetting them before taking in more of the strong drink.  
Maybe if you drink more, you’ll be less aggravated.  
“What’s wrong, my beauty?” He gently coos, boldly bringing his hand to caress the side of your neck.  
You shiver from the touch and quickly swat his hand away, stretching your neck and shoulders to shrug off his movements, turning away from him.  
Your attention is drawn to the roar of laughter echoing in the main banquet hall, near where you’re at currently. You look longingly in the direction of happiness.  
“Ya gonna stay here all night, beauty?”  
“Perhaps I will, then will you go away?” You angrily spit your words at him.  
His smile does not falter as he approaches you, walking to stand face to face with you.  
“You know as well as I do that your feistiness makes me want you even more than I already do.” He whispers, raising an eyebrow as he leans in closer to you.  
You scoff as you cross your arms, bringing the cup to your mouth again. Out of the corner of your eye you see Tormund licking his lips, clearly enjoying watching you.   
Distracted as you observe his expressions, the red wine spills over the edge of your cup, splashing messily on the left side of your light blue tunic. You hold the cup angrily out in front of you as Tormund begins to chuckle.   
“Have you had too much to drink tonight, my lady?” He teases.  
You turn quickly to give him a look, before he struts right up to you, caressing the spots of wine. Grabbing the material gently between his fingers, he massages the cloth back and forth, observing the damage done. His touch seems so delicate, a contrast to his rugged disposition.  
It is then you realize where the drops of wine have landed. The majority fell right against your chest; however, a few drops must have drifted further south, the wine forming small dots an inch above your nipple.   
Your eyes widen at the realization as you feel his fingers gently slide towards the small dribbles and begin rubbing the material again.  
You can’t help but get goosebumps at the feeling. No one has ever touched you this way before.  
You involuntarily drag in a quick breath, gasping at the sensation of his hands on you, holding you. He looks into your eyes and smiles when you do this, amused at your reaction.   
You can feel your heartbeat quickening, and he can too. He presses his hands deeper into your skin, practically massaging your breast now. You close your eyes at the sensation, a fire sensation growing stronger in your abdomen. He leans closer to your ear.  
“Ah, my lady. You’re so... soft...” He whispers, beginning to nuzzle his scratchy beard into your neck.  
You were angry when Sansa suggested you wear a deeper cut tunic. It was practically a dress, the ends flaring out and showcasing your body. The neckline was low, way lower than you’d hoped for. The only redeeming quality was the cerulean color that reminded you of the beautiful waters of your homeland.  
You hated it at first, but now you are thankful, very thankful.  
The soft scratching of his rough hair along with gentle kisses on your soft neck causes you to shiver, the cold chill obvious as he continues to massage your breast. His hand suddenly slips under the fabric of your dress, his fingers quickly finding your nipple. Caressing the sensitive bud, you arch your back into his touch in response. The aching feeling in your stomach grows as he moves his other hand lower. He nips your neck as the hand continues to move lower, and he eventually stops when his hand is right over your sex. It lingers for a few moments atop your dress, before he cups it completely. Despite the material of your tunic there, it feels as if no barrier is present at all. You gasp loudly at the sensation, his fingers adjusting to hold onto you and gently begin caressing the sensitivity. His fingers stroke right where your bundle of nerves is, and he immediately moves his mouth from administering kisses on your neck to your lips. Your moans are lessened but not silenced, the soft mewing of your cries still heard. The one hand leaves your breast to now cradle the back of your neck, supporting it while holding you close to him.  
Your legs are shaking at the sensations he is giving you. Moving his palm forwards and backwards, his gentle ministrations are driving you crazy. Your body is almost limp, leaning into him almost as if under his command.  
He breaks the kiss as he continues fondling you gently.  
“Beauty... have you felt... this... before?” He coos, raising an eyebrow in shock.  
You don’t want him to stop touching you. You want this feeling to last forever. You shake your head no as your eyes begin to close again.  
“Not even with yourself?”  
You look into his face and see nothing but astonishment and awe.  
“No... no I- mmmm... I haven’t.” You breathily moan, holding onto his arm for support.  
“We should... stop doing this here, my lady.” He whispers, still holding you to him, his arm now moving from your crotch to your waist.  
“Why?” You practically pout, aggravated at the movement away from pleasure.  
He once more leans closer towards your ear, his stubble grazing your neck, causing you to shiver.  
“Because, my beauty, I don’t want you getting fucked with an audience.”  
You gasp at his words, in complete shock, a deep blush overcoming you. Your chest deepens with the color as you readjust your neckline, embarrassed. Looking towards the great hall filled with people, you cross your arms over your chest, now self conscious.  
Noticing your discomfort, he pulls you closer to him.  
“I didn’t mean to embarrass ya, beauty, I just didn’t want your first time to be a quick rut in a hallway.” He explains sympathetically, hands rubbing the jutting bones of your hips.  
You can feel your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you continue to look towards the ground.  
“I want you... but you have to want me too.” he whispers gently, now moving his hands to sweep his fingers in circles over the small of your back.  
“I... I want you.” You open your eyes to look at his, vulnerability there.  
“Beauty, are you sure?” He asks, expression filled with uncertainty.  
If you are sure of anything, it’s this. The way he makes you feel. The way he will make you feel. This isn’t carnal, it’s a connection you’ve had. You are sure.  
“Tormund... I want this.”  
At this, he immediately gives your waist a squeeze as he takes your right hand, leading you away from the wedding.  
Torches light the dim corridors that are the rooms for guests, the gray color of the stones illuminated as he quickly leads you to a door near the end of the hallway.  
He reaches a hand into his pocket and whips out a key, which he fumbles with, dropping it as he quickly tries to unlock the door.  
You giggle as he picks up the brass key, taking his time now as he patiently opens his door. He leans the door open and you are immediately hit with a beautiful glow to the room, filled with his furs and pelts.  
As you tilt your head to admire the room, you feel yourself being picked up. A strong pair of hands cradles your knees and back. He makes you feel as light as a feather. Walking easily over the threshold of the door, you feel at ease and giggle as he gently lays you down on the bed.  
He turns to close the door, effectively locking it and strides towards you. Moving to sit beside you on the bed, you both sit sideways embracing each other as he begins placing gentle kisses on your forehead. As he busies himself with closing his eyes and administering little kisses, you move your hand to the bulge in his trousers. Carefully moving your hand, you place your fingers directly on it, massaging gently.   
His eyes immediately shoot open at the rush of pleasure, and you can feel the hum of his approval on your cheek, his lips locked by your ear. Suddenly he turns you both so that you are on your back, legs wrapped around him as he hovers over you, wedged between your legs.  
“I felt them...” He sensually whispers as he begins to unlace your dress, delicately pulling the string of your top bodice apart, “now let me see them.” He raises his eyebrows as he quickly jerks the two pieces of material apart, the dress finally undone and flying open. Your breasts bounce gently free of their place in the dress, Tormund immediately sporting a hungry expression as he eyes your naked chest.   
It is in this private space that you begin to feel self conscious, the lighting bright enough that he can see your every flaw, all of which men before had mocked. You suddenly remember every comment, every stab of their words and jeers that hurt you.  
You uncomfortably move your arms over your chest, hands cupping over your nipples as you look away ashamedly.   
His expression immediately changed from lust filled to confusion and care. He scoops his arms under you so that he is holding you closer to him, your face growing redder every second.   
“What’s wrong, beauty?” He whispers, voice wavering with concern.  
“Please, don’t call me that.” You spit your words angrily, not at him, just at the world.  
He tilts his head but keeps his gaze as he furrows his eyebrows in confusion still.  
“Beauty? What would you like me to call you instead? All other names don’t do you justi-“  
“Please, don’t lie to me. I know what I look like. I’m not a beauty.” You exhale sharply, biting back the pain of years of teasing.  
“Those cunts don’t deserve to breathe...” He begins, breathing becoming erratic and his expression turning quickly to anger, “who told you that?” He practically threatens, wanting names.  
“It would probably be easier to tell you who hasn’t told me that.”   
At this his lips curl into a snarl and he creases his brows in fury.  
“I’ll kill every fuckin one of the daft cunts that didn’t worship you... all those southern men want a weak damsel they can stick their dirty cock into... they don’t want a real woman! They don’t know what a real woman is! These cunts can’t see how beautiful you are and it kills me! I swear I’ll-“   
“Tormund! Tormund! Calm down! It’s alright!” You comfort, setting a hand on his now bulging bicep, pulsing in anger.  
“I can’t, beauty! I c-“  
“It’s alright, Tormund.” You coo softly, trying to tame the beast you unknowingly released.  
“It’s not alright that these men made you feel anything but beautiful.” He sweetly sulks.  
At first you thought his admiration was purely animalistic, a ruse to get between your legs like all the other boys tried with fake compliments. He seems serious, genuinely upset with the remarks of the men he’s never met that hurt you. Maybe he really thinks you’re beautiful.  
“I didn’t mean to upset you, I just thought you had been joking this whole time about the ‘beauty’ nickname.”  
His expression turns to a look of sorrow at your words.  
“Oh, beauty, I would never tease you like silly boys did. I’m a man of my word. You are as brilliant as any maester I’ve met, alluring as the sea. Your eyes are as bright as the sun and as deep as rivers, carrying me away in them. Your golden hair rivals the gods, your body, oh beauty, your neck is-“  
“Alright, I think I understand, Tormund, thank you.” You interrupt his speech with a gentle smile as you let go of your breasts to give his shoulders a squeeze.  
“Oh, but you haven’t even heard the best part.” He praises as he litters your neck with kisses.  
“Why don’t you show me instead?” You taunt, pulling him closer to you and raising your hips to him nervously.  
“Are you sure, beauty? And I will call you beauty, because yo-“  
“Yes, I’m sure.” You finish with a warm smile, pulling him to you and eliminating the space between your bodies.  
He quickly pulls back and throws his shirt over his head before he hungrily continues attacking your neck, your nipples now grazing over his thick hair on his bare chest. You whimper as he tickles you there, sending shivers down your spine.  
You reach between your bodies to find his erection once again, massaging it gently, causing him to release a series of grunts and moans. You press your palm against him with increasing pressure, and he moves his hands to cup the top of your ribcage around your chest, his thumbs now caressing your peaked nipples. He runs circles around them, switching his mouth to administer kisses between the two of them.  
Gods, you’d never wished he had a second mouth until now.  
He suddenly moves to line his erection with your center, his pants still on. Immediately, he begins grinding against you, long, heavy strokes as he still plays with your breasts. You are calling his name out along with heavy sighs, and he answers with your name. The rhythm is addicting, the feel of him through his clothes still sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You move to reclaim his lips as he continues his exploration.  
His touch sends lighting through you as you call his name blindly, louder. You notice the absence of one hand eventually as he fumbles desperately under your dress.  
You release a long held gasp as you feel the tips of his fingers brush your underclothes. His tickling spurs on the waves of goose bumps on your skin, chills reaching down your spine. He looks down at your one more time as he begins stroking the outside of the thick layer between him and you. You see him silently asking for your permission and you nod to give consent.  
Taking your approval, he immediately smirks and begins untying the knot holding your underclothes together. Pulling them apart, he quickly slips his hand underneath the material, starting right below your naval. His fingers softly glide and trace patterns on your skin, creating a ticklish sensation as he sneaks farther down your body. Eventually reaching the thatch of blonde hair, he growls as he snakes his fingers in it. Gasping, already on the brink of losing it to pleasure, your fingernails claw onto his shoulders leaving angry red traces on his skin.  
He groans in both pain and pleasure at your doing, and brings his hand lower in revenge to caress the inside of your thighs, centimeters from your throbbing sex. You pant desperately as he places his gentle touch almost at the point where you need him most, and you try to rub your body against him.   
“You want me to touch you there, beauty?” He arrogantly questions, feigning innocence as the sweat drips from your pores and you nod, eyes heavy with lust.  
“Tell me, beauty, what would you like me to do?” He cockily asks, hand frozen above your clitoris, hovering just centimeters from where you need him.  
“Tormund, please...” you plead, your chest heaving desperately up and down.  
“Please what?”  
“Please... just touch me, please... I want yo- I need you.” You pant, desperate for him.  
He cockily raises his eyebrow but feel his hand reach down to caress you. You close your eyes with a hum of pleasure as he applies light but persistent pressure to your clitoris, gently massaging you. You instinctively buck into his hand as the strong feeling of pleasure centers right in your abdomen and travels lower.  
You once again open your eyes and whimper as one of his fingers begins to trace a circle around your entrance, teasing you.  
Your panting becomes loud, a series of deep inhales and moaning as he plays with the evidence of your arousal, bringing the finger up to his mouth and burying it in his mouth, sucking it clean with a popping sound. He did all of that with direct eye contact, and you shiver.  
“Gods, woman, you taste fucking amazing... I need more.” He whispers, pushing your dress up and over your head, completely exposing yourself except for your half off underclothes, just the small pair of shorts under your dress, not exactly a resistance. He takes the dress and throws it over to the side of the room before he grabs the top sides of your shorts and aggressively rips them down. They fly off your feet and the chill of night air reaches your nether regions. You quickly turn your legs over to the side, closing them from him in your shyness, cheeks turning crimson once more.   
“Didn’t mean to scare ya, beauty.” He assures, a smile on his face as he places his strong hands on your thighs, rubbing them in comfort.  
“I’m not scared I’m just... I feel very... vulnerable right now.” You state, heartbeat increasing.  
You felt vulnerable without your armor on at all times, both physical and emotion armor. Now, completely bare before anyone, no armor or clothes to be found, it’s intimidating.  
His expression changes as you see a thought come to him, and he removes his hands in order to jerk his pants down.  
He wasn’t wearing underclothes.  
He holds his arms out to his sides, making a face that is a mix of pride and comfort. He obviously is trying to make you feel better, but why is that his solution?  
You release a small scream/giggle and turn your head away in embarrassment as he climbs back over to you, grabbing your thighs again and shaking them.  
“See, now I’m vulnerable.” He soothes, stroking the outside of your legs as you turn back to look at him in admiration.  
He just wants to make you comfortable.  
An odd gesture, yes, but a heartfelt one.  
“No reason to be nervous, my lady, it’s nothing I haven’t felt and explored anyways. I already know what you feel like, and I intend to learn a bit more now if you’d like?”   
“So when do I get to learn more about...” you look down at his nether regions with raised eyebrows, “... you?” You tease.  
“Oh, there’s time for that, but this is about you, my beauty.” He quips, coaxing your legs slowly apart by placing gentle kisses along your legs. He worships your body, starting at your ankles as he works his way higher, hands curled around your legs as he plants kisses along them. You shiver when his beard scratches the inside of your knee, finally feeling comfortable enough to rest your legs open to him. Putting both of his hands on your knees to bend them open more for him to explore, he licks his lips at the sight of you. Although you’re too afraid to look down and see what you look like, you know just about how ready you are for him. He places gentle kisses along your inner thighs, dragging his tongue along to tease you.   
Your jaw slackens when he finally places a gentle kiss to that sensitive nub. Closing your eyes, you release an extremely loud groan, surprising yourself and smacking your hand over your mouth in embarrassment.   
Tormund immediately begins laughing, and the hum of his voice on your clit sends you into a frenzy and you grab his fiery hair in response, pulling the thick strands between your fingers. You don’t want him to stop. Ever. And gods, he doesn’t seem to want to quit anytime soon either.  
He enthusiastically laps at your vagina, lustfully savoring every drop that you gladly give him.  
You feel as if you are on fire, your whole body shaking, sweating. You’ve never had such an intense pleasure. It begins from your abdomen and vagina, but courses through your blood, filling you with total warmth.  
He suddenly picks up his head to look at you, head thrown back in pleasure, a tight grip in his red locks.  
“Beauty... you taste heavenly.” He smirks devilishly as he returns to his previous activity, this time attacking your clit with a higher intensity.  
This sends your body into a new bloom of pleasure, your legs beginning to shake aggressively, panting and breathing ragged. You turn your head to the side and whimper desperately, calling his name in a hungry benediction. His grip tightens on your thighs as he brings you to the edge of pleasure. Your breathing quickens and you feel a tightness in your abdomen, a quick and needy throbbing. Whatever feeling is building inside you is peaking quickly, too quickly.  
“Tor-Tormund... What’s happening?” You desperately pant, tossing your head relentlessly side to side, hands clenching the sheets in rhythm to his movements.  
“Let yourself feel it, beauty. Let go.” He hums, eyes seeking yours.  
You stop fighting the growing urge happening, and bring your head up to look to him. The tension in your body tightens to an almost painful point, and you can feel your breathing halt. Suddenly, the pressure releases.  
You feel your body falling into pleasure, your muscles tightening and relaxing to He rhythm he sets. Your vaginal muscles clench with pleasure and release. You release a series of “oh’s” as you feel your body completely release to Tormund.   
After a few seconds, the feeling finally subsides, leaving you in a heap beneath him. He continues administering his licking as he collects the last bits of pleasure from you, your body still sensitive as you writhe beneath him. You are left heavily panting as your eyes flutter open and closed from your pleasure.  
You feel him leave your sex as he climbs up to cradle you in his arms, holding your body close to him.   
Just as you think you have relaxed, his hand sneaks lower and traces circles your thigh and pelvis once more, causing you to release a strong whimper and call his name. You feel his hand snake past your hip and lower to your sensitive nub again. You buck in his arms as he dips his hand to completely clamp around you. He traces the wet opening of you as he dips a finger inside, testing how you approach this new feeling.   
You melt instantly into his hold, long neck leaning back and exposed to him as your muscles relax. Releasing breathy moans, you arch back into his touch as he pushes the digit in further. There’s a level of discomfort that is eased by him massaging your clit, but the pleasure dissipates when he adds another finger.  
You immediately tense up and release a whimper of soreness as he tries to massage the uneasiness away.  
“Relax, beauty, it will feel better if you relax.” He coos, choosing to attack your neck with sensual, deep kisses.   
You moan as you feel your body open up to him in response to his motions, and he swirls the two fingers, opening you up to him. This continues for a few minutes before he removes his fingers and holds them up to you. They shine in the light, slick from your lust. Again, he licks them seductively as he turns you on your back and moves to straddle you.  
“You still want me, beauty?” He asks, tone serious.  
“Yes, Tormund.” You reply, voice certain.  
He then moves to hover above your body, obviously straining from taking you right now. You can tell he will be new to this kind of sex, more of a joining of bodies than a hungry go at it like he does.   
He takes his time kissing up your body as he snakes his arms under your back to hold you closer to him. As he aligns his body to t the entrance, you can see him shake as he reigns in his self control. I’m all honesty you’re shaking as well, and he takes note of this as he presses a gentle kiss to your damp forehead, strands of straw hair clinging to the wet surface.  
You can feel the tip of his erection nudge at your lips, slick and prepared.   
“This might hurt, beauty, but give the word and I’ll wait.” He whispers, coating the tip of his cock before gently pushing into you. He is barely inside of you when you feel a fullness. The fingers did not even compare to the feeling of him, the hard, velvety flesh pushing deep into where you haven’t felt before.  
You release a gasp, half pained and half pleasure, as he stops his motion completely, waiting to gage your reaction before continuing.  
You nod your head for him to resume, and once again scratch his shoulders as you try to distract yourself from the discomfort. You cry out in pain and he stops once again, but you shake your head.   
“Tormund please go! Just go! It hurts!” You plead, holding him close and attempting not to scurry away from underneath him.  
“Beauty, I’m not even halfway in.” He states innocently, eyes wide in fear.  
Gods, of course your first time is with the biggest man in probably all of Westeros. How are you going to get through this? This is impossible, he’s barely fitting now.  
“Here, if you arch like this...” he grabs your behind and angles it more towards him as he lifts your back completely up. The change in position stings, and you can feel yourself getting more uncomfortable.  
You decide to do something you never would have imagined.  
As he distracts himself trying to direct your body, you throw your hips upward on him, his erection having no choice but to go further inside you. You grunt in pain as you feel a barrier release, a soft pulling and release of tension. It feels as if you tore a muscle while sparring, just a quick stab of pain and then it begins throbbing; however, this throbbing soon diminishes completely, your body adjusting to him and taking him fully. You feel a rush of liquid that begins to leak from where you are joined and reach down your hand to touch the mysterious liquid.  
A maroon stickiness that can only be your maidens blood trickles down the up of your finger and begins to dribble down your left thigh and drop onto the sheets of his bed. His eyes grow wide with fear and shock as he looks at the blood and then up towards your relieved face.  
You smile at him and then bring his head to yours, embracing him and planting deep kisses to his lips.  
He then once again plunged into you, this time all the way to the hilt. You moan loudly at the feeling of fullness, your body stretching to accommodate his. His hips begin to create a rhythm once again as his gentle pushes begin to grow into hungry thrusts, completely hitting every spot of you.  
You watch as his forehead is dripping with sweat, his body exuding every bit of effort to get you to surrender to him. You can feel that coil tightening in your abdomen again, and you know you’re close.  
“Tor- Tormund! I’m alm- almost... there!” You pant, your breath hitching as he thrusts in and out of you, your body moving with his. Your moans become louder, your body more sensitive. He moves a hand to once again caress your nipple and you throw your head back in pleasure, milky white neck exposed to him as he calls your name.  
“Brienne, my beauty, look at me when you come.” He whispers, voice desperate and pleading as you bring your face back to look at him. He moves his hand from your breast to your clit, massaging it gently and you completely lose it.  
You close your eyes at first but then quickly open them, remembering Tormund’s request. Your mouth falls open in shock as a strong wave of pleasure is immediately crashing over your vagina. You call out his name as he continues thrusting, your body shaking completely and weighing beneath him. He holds you in his arms as you ride through the many waves of pleasure, never really stopping. As your high begins to subside, you feel Tormund begin to shudder above you and he calls y’all ur name out in a desperate cry. He shuts his eyes as his body finishes within you, and then he falls down beside you, completely spent.   
He somehow manages to pull you to him, body completely engulfed in his. You’ve never felt small, but here you are, no match to the large man holding you. For a few minutes, the only noise in the room is your joined panting, and then once you catch your breath, complete silence. The silence is broken as Tormund releases a laugh.  
“What’s so funny?” You question, hand now tracing star patterns on his hairy chest.  
“I knew you would like weddings.” He sighs, showing a cocky grin as he holds you tight.  
“I told you, I like weddings!”   
“Well, you might like them, but this must be your new favorite.” He teases, flashing that toothy grin again.  
“Mmmmm we’ll see. It’s not over yet!”   
“Oh... it’s definitely not over yet!” He shouts as he straddles you once again, sucking your neck, causing you to release a giggle and soft scream as you playfully hit his chest.  
He’s right. It’s definitely not over. This isn’t the last time you’ll make love tonight, and it certainly is your favorite wedding.


	23. FACK UPDATE

Hi sister friends!  
I’m taking the LSAT tomorrow and I neeeeed to get a good score for law school so send good vibes and thoughts pls. I’ve been so distracted trying to get my life together. Encouragement for stories and life in general would be appreciated so feel free to comment encouragement and pray for your Elle Woods ho pls thnx


	24. Crisis Part 2 lololol

Hi sister friends I have some stories in the works but there’s a big dance competition/show I’m gonna be prepping for so pls send good vibes for ya girl to remember her shit ayyyy bless love y’all


	25. Always - Sandor/Reader

Your bare feet gently hit the stone as you take your time walking down the uneven, rough stairs. You hold a wicker basket tight against your hip, the purple streams of your clothing floating in the breeze as you sway. Your wear you hair up half down with two braids leading back and being tied, the deep chocolate locks falling on your hips and bouncing against your back with each step you take. The scratchy basket is filled with lavender, fresh, and ready to be sold.   
The tufts of lavender are the same color of the dress you wear, and you also wear some in your hair. The strands are tucked behind your ear and woven through the braids, creating a crown-like effect in your hair. You find that some men will specifically pay for the ones in your hair, which makes you uneasy. It’s very odd, but they pay well, and that’s what you need after all.  
You hear the clacking of little hooves as you briefly glance down to see your goat, Bubs, following you. He’s black with small speckles of gray covering his back, his eyes a deep blue that seem to pierce your heart with joy. He playfully bounces everywhere, jumping off the wall and occasionally chewing on the hem of your dress. He’s a few months old, still tiny, but full of energy.  
As you begin to turn a corner and finally look up, you are confronted with a man and jump back in surprise. He is short, fat, but relatively clean shaven. You recognize him as one of the creepy ones that buys the lavender from your hair but are relatively relieved at the opportunity to pocket some coins. He stands right before you, only a foot separating you from him.   
Immediately halting, you release a gasp as you push a strand of hair behind your ear.  
“Hello, sir! Any lavender today?” You kindly question, holding out your basket for him to observe. He takes a deep whiff, leaning over the basket before aggressively grabbing your hand. His brown tunic is stained with sweat and you cringe.  
“You know I want the one from your pretty little locks.” He purrs seductively, eyes scanning you as if you were his prey.  
You reach to grab the small one tucked behind your ear and hand it over. He carefully grabs it, bringing it to his nostrils and inhaling sharply before his eyes flutter closed.  
“It smells just like you...”  
It unnerves you every time he makes a purchase. Some customers seem to disregard your friendly disposition as a tease, and he is definitely crossing the line.  
“That’ll just be the same amount as normal.” You gently relay, instinctively putting the basket as a barrier between you.  
He hands you the silver coins but quickly grabs your waist and aggressively pulls you to him, causing you to drop the basket with a loud crash. Your goat cries out in fear, his high pitched noises trying to help as he leaps along the now spilled lavender.  
“You know I’d pay you more if you put that lavender somewhere else for me....” He sadistically growls in your ear as he tries to bring your body closer.  
“Get off me!” You shout desperately.  
“Then I’d get to know what you really smell like...” He whispers in your ear and you let out a high pitched scream.  
“Hey!” You hear a familiar voice call out somewhere behind you.  
You push off of him forcefully with a snarl, tripping backwards and knocking into something a few feet back.   
You turn to see none other than the hound, his armor gleaming in the sunlight. His face still with the brutal scarring of the fire, you watch as he wears that same smug grin.  
“What’s going on here?”  
“Stupid whore here won’t listen to me, you know how they are.” The fat man states, arms folded.  
“You can’t whore in the streets, girl. If you want to make money with your cunt it must be in a brothel.” He apathetically commands. He has an apologetic look now as he glances at you, something unusual.  
The man immediately laughs and begins to walk away, but not before reaching low and grabbing your ass. You turn to confront him but feel yourself being held back. You angrily thrash in their grasp and your noises alert the goat to crying out once more. You painfully watch as the man snickers while running away, turning a corner and disappearing before your eyes.   
“Let me go! Let me gooo!” You cry out, frustration pouring from your body.   
“Let him go, stupid girl!” He commands, his voice straining trying to hold you.  
“I’m not stupid, and I’m not a whore!” You yell, fists pounding at his armor to release you.  
You slip through his grasp and fall from his arms, your hands smacking against the ground as you crumple on the stone. You release a whimper if pain as you collide against the hard surface, forehead hitting roughly and feeling dizzy.  
“Easy, girl, easy.” You hear the hound soothe as he leans down to help you but you swat him away.  
You begin to pick up bits of lavender from the ground and put them in your basket as you you hold your head, trying to ease the throbbing pain. You notice large handfuls of lavender being put in your basket and see the hound frown as if sorry.  
Your head hit the pavement hard, and you can feel a little trail of blood falling from your hairline. You feel the goat nudging you with his face, and you pet him as you stand up, holding him in your arms as you hold your head painfully.   
Suddenly the hound reaches his giant hand to bring out a handkerchief and then brings it up to your forehead. You wince in pain as he wipes some of the blood away, but let him continue his ministration.  
“I’m sorry, girl.”  
“I’m not a whore.” You state, your voice serious and face reflecting it.  
“I know that, but the only way he would leave is by saying that.”  
You angrily stare at the ground beneath you until he begins again.  
“You can’t be doing this.” He calmly motions to where the fat man once stood.  
“Doing what? Selling flowers?” You scoff at his ignorance. It’s your only way of living.  
“It’ll get you killed.”  
“I’ll die without it.”  
“Don’t be difficult.”  
“Don’t be stupid.”   
He inhales a deep breath before speaking.  
“Don’t you have something better to do? Find some cunt to marry and raise kids to start a family. Don’t you want a family?”  
Oh no. The question you had been dreading. You’d seen the hound around a few times but never wanted anyone to know that you are the only surviving member of your family.  
“Not really. It’s only me left now.” You state emotionlessly.  
“Apologies, my lady. I didn’t mean to bring back any harmful memories.”   
He knew? Oh great. Now, you’re pissed.  
“It’s fine. I’m fine. And I CAN do this to make money.” You proudly state, standing tall before him.  
“It would be safer for a girl like you to work in a brothel ya know. At least there they can protect you. People like him will take you for fun and for free.” He stubbornly states.  
You wince at his words.  
“I can protect myself.” You assure with raised eyebrows.  
“Not against them.”  
“I can handle THEM myself.”  
“I can’t come to save you every fucking time.”  
His words surprise you until you begin to realize that at every encounter with a customer that could have been dangerous, he was always nearby. A few clients and deals went wrong, and he was always somehow right there to deescalate the situation before it erupted. He had been watching out for you this whole time.  
“What do you want.” You apathetically state.  
“I’m just trying to apologiz-“  
“You don’t have to apologize. Just leave me alone. I don’t need you.” You scoff and attempt to walk away but stop when you feel two hands on your hips.  
You try to fight but he turns you to his body and hugs you to him. You begin to relax into his grasp and it starts to feel kind of nice. His body is warm against yours, safe. Everything feels natural; that is, until you feel something pressing against your abdomen.   
“Ser, your dagger is pressing on my stomach.” You whine as you break apart from him to see his face flush and no weapon. The only thing evident is his arousal.  
“I know what you want. Trying to save the day once again and hope I sleep with you.”   
He looks shocked as you back away from him.  
“I thought you were better than that. I really did.” You shake your head in disappointment at him.  
“It’s not-“ he attempts to explain but you angrily interrupt.  
“Even if I WAS a whore,” you emphasize the word as you look him in the eyes, “you couldn’t pay me to be with you.” You angrily seethe.  
You immediately grab your basket again and put the goat in it, turning away from him in frustration as you rush down the stairs.  
“Girl!” You hear him call out, but you ignore it. You’ve already wasted enough time dealing with him that you probably lost the guy that grabbed you.  
You run down alleyways, looking for the man who touched you, barely paying attention to anything as you search desperately for that worthless piece of-  
You are suddenly spun around and pushed into a wall, a hand laid over your mouth and a sharp sensation on your neck to keep you from calling out. You look to see the same man as before, only now, he has another man with him. The other man looks thinner and dirtier than the man that touched you, and holds another sinister looking knife in front of you, holding a finger to his lips in a signal to be quiet. He puts the basket with lavender and your goat on the ground, setting it aside as you feel the other man’s knife dig into your sensitive skin. You feel moist droplets trickle down your neck, and know he’s drawn blood.  
Bubs cries out his little “bah’s” as the thin man grabs him and puts him in a clay pot outside the alleyway. He’s too small to get out, and you know you’re stuck.  
“Shhhhhh. There, girl. If you shut that pretty little mouth of yours, then this won’t hurt.” The fat man coos.  
Your chest heaves rapidly and your eyes widen as you see him holding up the small bundle of lavender you sold him. He twists it in front of you with a sinister grin before beginning to trail it down your chest.  
He brings his filthy hand to cup your crotch, your thick dress the only barrier between you and him.  
“Now, all I wanted to do was tell you how to make more money. You’d be the top seller in Kings landing if you put these in your panties... could you imagine the smell of it, Lan? The sweet and musky combinat-“   
You lift your leg to his crotch as powerfully as you can. The fat man releases a cry and leans over, but his knife still sliced your neck. You release a gasp and lace your fingers around your neck, mouth wide open from shock. The maroon liquid is running down your arms now, the cut not deep enough to be fatal, but you feel lightheaded from the loss of blood. You fall to the ground and try to crawl to the alleyway, bloody handprints trailing behind you. Just as you reach the edge and place your fingers on the stone, you feel yourself being pulled back.  
You can’t even fight the strong hands pulling you as you helplessly watch blood smear in front of you as you are dragged back to hell.  
The thin man holds a knife to you as the fat one straddles you.  
“You’re gonna pay for that, you dumb cunt.” He viciously spits, hand roaming to fall to your dress. You feel his fingers desperately scrambling under your clothes, and you try to scream. The fat man’s hand muffled your cry, and tears fill your eyes as you see the knife being raised in the thin man’s hand. You close your eyes and feel an odd splash of liquid on your body.  
Suddenly, you are covered in blood, but not your own. Your face is splattered, and you blink rapidly to figure out what is happening. You finally notice that the thin man is not standing above you, and you can feel a puddle of blood forming where his body must be.  
The fat man’s eyes widen as he looks to see something above you. He carefully lifts himself off you and attempts to explain himself, but he is interrupted as a sword is pushed deep into his stomach. He gurgles before falling to the ground, grabbing his tummy to keep his entrails from escaping once the sword is removed.   
You quickly turn to see the hound, covered with blood, holding your goat. He sets him on the ground, and he bounds over to you, releasing a series of scared cries. You little Bubs in your arms and hold him to your chest, the tears finally escaping now. Bubs has a few drops of blood on his nose, and you lift part of your dress to wipe it off, giving him kisses.  
It is then you remember the hound’s presence, and drop part of the dress that exposes more of your leg than should be.  
“Thank you! Thank you so much!” You cry, running towards him and engulfing him in a tight hug. He releases a slight groan as your body impacts his, but he then returns the gesture as you feel his strong arms hold you close.  
“Girl, if you keep holding me like this we’re going to have a repeat of why you stormed off.” He gently adds as you loosen your grip but don’t yet surrender him.  
“How can I ever thank you?”   
“You can start by getting your goat out of my crotch.”  
You look down to see Bubs nudging him near his pelvis, horns digging into his armor.  
“Oh!” You shout as you bring him back away from the hound, releasing a nervous giggle.  
“And you can let me watch over you as you do your daily walks.”  
You smile as you picture the two of you talking as you stroll along the rocky stairs.  
“That seems fair.” You comment playfully.  
You watch as he leans in and plants a kiss on your cheek. You close your eyes as his lips brush your cheekbones, his rough beard caressing your soft skin.  
When your eyes open, he is standing proudly above you.  
“And we can do more of that.”  
“These are a lot of demands for a man that said I was a stupid girl.” You casually add, sarcasm evident.  
“A smart girl doesn’t run into danger.”   
“A smart man does not go after the girl in danger.”  
At this he chuckles as he places an arm around your shoulder and guides you out of the dirty alleyway. Your eyes squint as you adjust to the light, and you finally get a good look at him. He’s more handsome than you remembered. Strong jaw and cheekbones along with piercing eyes.   
He looks down to you in confusion.  
“What’s wrong?” He asks.  
“Thank you for looking out for me.”  
He considers your comment before a happy smirk consumes his face and you smile in return.  
“Always.”


End file.
